


Creating the Night Sky

by Oddree13



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Gen, Insecure Lestrade, Insecure Mycroft, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Potterlock, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 53,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddree13/pseuds/Oddree13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade is in his fifth year at Hogwarts and has been appointed Gryffindor prefect. At his first meeting he meets Head Boy Mycroft Holmes and can't stop thinking about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:**

> This work was the result of an omegle chat and is still ongoing between the two of us via email. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)
> 
> My blog on Tumblr where I house this fic as well is Oddree13
> 
> Mystrade is my ship and I'm happy I'm finally inspired and confident enough to write about them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Head boy meets prefect. Prefect makes a fool of himself.

Mycroft sat, bored, in the prefects compartment of the train. The Slytherin Head Boy glanced at his watch, studiously ignoring the Head Girl, another Slytherin named Anthea. It would be time for the train to leave soon, and then he could have his prefects meeting and spend the rest of the train ride reading in peace. No one ever came into the compartment before the meeting started so Mycroft was curious when the door of the compartment opened. Looking up as the student glanced inside, Mycroft presumed it was one of the new prefects, as he didn’t recognize the teen. His scarf gave away his Gryffindor house, and a glance at the list told him this must be Gregory Lestrade

Greg entered the compartment looking a bit nervous, but settled once he noted the Head Boy badge on Mycroft's robes. "I'm in the right place I take it," Greg said as he strode in and sat across from Mycroft on the opposite bench.

"Gregory Lestrade, I presume? If so, yes you are in the right place, however the meeting does not begin for another hour if you wish to sit elsewhere in the meantime."

Greg shook his head, "Nah, I'd like to stay here if you don't mind."

Mycroft looked the younger boy up and down, deducing the teen quickly, though unlike Sherlock, he would not speak his findings aloud. "Well, this is the prefect compartment so you are entitled to stay. I am Mycroft Holmes, and I will be the Head Boy this year. Congratulations on making prefect; I do hope you are prepared for the extra workload."

"Ta! I'm looking forward to it. Workload should be fine; I'm used to my life being a balancing act." Greg said, noticing the Slytherin's custom made robes and ginger hair. "Did you say Holmes? No relation to that Ravenclaw git by any chance?”

"You must mean my brother, Sherlock, and I would prefer if you refrained from using such terms for him. At the least in my presence that is," Mycroft said, somewhat coldly. He was really rather protective of his younger brother, even if Sherlock showed no appreciation whatsoever.

"Sorry mate, didn't mean any offence by it. One of my teammates is always trailing after him is all, and I've tried to approach him before but he told me my broom handling was telling of my muggle upbringing and broken index finger from five years ago was a result of a first-year scuffle before storming off."

Greg noted that the Head Boy didn't look like his younger brother; less alien looking and more reserved. His hair was kept neat and he had a smattering of freckles on his face that he clearly wasn’t please about.

"Yes, he does do that," Mycroft nodded. "He lacks some fundamental social skills, unfortunately. But blood must stick together, after all, and he is my brother.”

Sensing the unease in the conversation Mycroft continued. “Your team played well in the Quidditch finals last year." He felt slightly awkward, making small talk like this. It wasn't exactly his area. But as Head Boy, he wanted to know his prefects and not simply be a manager who sends out instructions without a personal touch. That, and it certainly didn't hurt that this Gryffindor was rather attractive. Not that he stood a chance, of course, but one could dream.

"Uh, yeah...it was quite a good match despite the bludger to my elbow." Greg rolled up his sleeve revealing a scar. "Want to touch it?" he said wiggling his eyebrows.

Mycroft fought back a blush. He couldn't seem like an idiot to this boy, of all people. "If you insist," he said, trying to sound disinterested.

Greg took note of the red tint on Mycroft's face and decided it would be his personal mission to see that happen again. "It wasn't too bad but no fun explaining to my parents when they got me from the train."

Mycroft chuckled, surprising himself. "Yes, I can imagine. Muggle parents might have some difficulty understanding the things we do through for Quidditch."

Greg beamed "Yeah, but it’s definitely nothing compared to footie"

Mycroft had made a point of learning about the muggle world. He hoped to gain a position of influence, and he knew how important muggle-wizard relations could be, no matter what the purebloods would like to think. So, he knew with some confidence what Greg was talking about. "Indeed. One ball, and none of them try to viciously murder the players; it certainly seems tamer, all things considered."

Eyes wide Greg beamed. "Wow, you actually know what I'm talking about. Most of the other blokes around here don't and look at my poster funny because the photo won't move."

"I have made a point of learning a few small things about the muggle world. Relations between our world and theirs are more important in these times than ever."

"Ministry for you then I take it?"

"My aspirations are simple," he lied, “but yes, that is where my aims lie. And you wish to become an auror?" It was a deduction, but he knew it was a good one.

"I'll just be happy in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I shouldn't aim my sights too high," Greg stated matter-of-factly.

"Nonsense. I can see that you do well enough in your classes, and clearly you are skilled enough to become prefect. One should never set their sights lower than their potential."

It was Greg's turn to blush "Thanks Myc, I'll keep that in mind"

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, surprised at the nickname. No one had ever thought to address him so informally before. "Good," he said, slightly off-balance.

He noticed the blush adorning Gregory's cheeks and bit back a small grin. It was rare that he should have an effect other than fear on people, and in this case, it was welcomed.

***

The two boys (and one quiet Anthea) sat in the compartment in companionable silence while the train left the station. Mycroft pretended to read his book, but spent more time studying Greg's facial expressions as he read his Charms book. Greg on the other hand did not want to blush again, therefore, threw himself into his book before he embarrassed himself in front of the seventh year.

Greg stirred on the bench, "I'm going to check on some of my teammates and grab some stuff from the trolley. Want anything?"

Mycroft shook his head. He did enjoy the cauldron cakes, but a glance at his stomach told him he should really decline. "No, but thank you, Gregory. Be aware that the meeting begins in ten minutes."

"No worries be back soon."

As soon as the compartment was empty again he felt a set of judgemental eyes on him. He glared at Anthea, who was snickering at him lightly. "Oh, shut up," he hissed. She was invaluable to him, the closest he had to a friend, but sometimes it irritated him how well she knew him. She rolled her eyes and returned to the magazine in her hands, still smirking, as Mycroft sat back and waited for the prefects to begin trickling in.

***

Greg walked to the compartment where all of his Gryffindor teammates were sitting. Donovan and Dimmock were looking at an article about the new models of brooms coming out next season, while Mike was off in the corner dozing. Sarah was showing Bill her new bludger bat and John was nowhere to be found.

"Anyone seen Watson?" Greg asked.

"Yeah he's off this that freak in Ravenclaw," Sally said rolling her eyes. "Honestly I don't know why the captain insists on being around him."

Greg remembered Mycroft's reaction in the compartment when Greg called him a git. "Sally, you probably shouldn't call him a freak. Just let John know I'm looking for him."

Greg had turned to walk back to the prefects’ compartment when he spotted the trolley. He grabbed some chewing gum and two chocolate frogs. He figured he'd offer one to Mycroft when he got back just in case.

***

Mycroft was looking at the compartment door as the prefects were slowly trickling in, biting back a grin as Greg entered along with the others. Gradually he checked off each pair present: Hooper and Lestrade for Gryffindor, Knight and Yao for Hufflepuff, Adler and Frankland for Ravenclaw, and Wilkes and Riley for Slytherin.

Mycroft began the meeting outlining prefect duties, schedules for patrols, and how to get something changed if necessary.

"This year in addition to your usual duties there will be a Yule Ball, as decreed by headmistress McGonagall, who sees no need to wait for a Triwizard tournament for our school to share in some holiday festivities. The prefects, in addition to us, the head boy and girl, are responsible for planning it. Keep a look out for owls regarding meeting times."

The collective groan amongst the male prefects could not outweigh the squeals of delight from the girls. Yule Ball meant dress up and dates to everyone but only so many of them saw it positively.

Once Mycroft dismissed the group, he was shocked to see that Greg was still in the compartment, sitting back on the bench writing what appeared to be a letter.

"Mind if I sit here until my shift...it’s not for another 45 minutes, and the compartment with my team gets a bit noisy."

Nodding, he was surprised that Gregory would want to stay, but pleased. "Be my guest... the compartment is meant for prefects as well, should they choose." Not that any ever did... but who was he to complain?

"Thanks."

Mycroft sat stiffly in his chair, reading his newspaper - or trying to. His attention was continuously stolen by the Gryffindor, drawn anew with each small motion and bite of the lip as he thought about what to write next.

Completing his letter Greg stuffed the paper into an envelope and licked the flap shut. He threw a piece of gum into his mouth and held up a second piece to Mycroft.

The ginger hesitated before accepting. “Thank you." He knew he shouldn't, a voice sounding suspiciously like Sherlock's reminding him of his diet, but surely one piece wouldn't hurt.

"It’s not going to do anything, just gum" Greg muttered, noting Mycroft's hesitation.

With silence back to consuming the compartment Greg decided to chime in with small talk. "So Myc, who is the lovely head girl next to you who hasn't spoken a word since I walked in?"

"Hmm?" Mycroft hummed, trying not to seem disappointed. "This is Anthea. Don't be rude, dear, say hello," he scolded lightly, tugging the magazine away.

She waved unamused before tugging it back.

"Pleasure," Greg said chuckling. "Not much of a talker I see? Eh, just like my sister."

Mycroft nodded. "She chooses her words carefully, but can certainly use them to her advantage."

"I have to go to my shift but thank you for putting up with this muggle’s small talk."

“It was honestly no trouble, Gregory," he said formally. "Your presence is more stimulating than that of the average student."

"I'll take that as a compliment then Myc. By the way is it alright if I call you Myc...Just Mycroft seems too stiff for you."

Mycroft shook his head. "I do not mind. Most say my name suits me, just for that reason."

"Clearly they haven't seen you laugh."

"Most haven't," he mused. In fact, none had. He was the Iceman; he had heard the nickname. He was serious and cold, and never anything else but subtly threatening.

"That's a shame. Makes you look cute - ah I mean better," Greg half-caught himself. "I better go do my rounds. See you." With that Greg ran out of the compartment in embarrassment.

Mycroft was stunned by the latest revelation. Had Gregory just called him cute? Of all things, cute? He barely noticed Gregory leaving as he tried to interpret his comment. Anthea raised an eyebrow at Mycroft, and he flushed slightly, glaring again.

"Not a word,” he threatened.

Gregory could be seen as a weakness of his, and that simply could not be allowed. He hated how a simple compliment affected him

***

Running ran down into the next compartment Greg bumped into Molly, his fellow Gryffindor prefect. Flustered he told her he was going to check on the first years and she could deal with the upper level students.

"I hope he didn't hear that," he mumbled to himself, "who calls a bloke cute Lestrade. Honestly."

Greg wandered in and out the first year compartments, undoing a few basic hexes and calming down a pack of nervous muggle-born girls, slowly counting down the end of his shift.


	2. Stars Shining Bright Above You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft finds Greg in an abandoned train compartment and learns the fifth year it more talented than he looks.

At the end of his shift, Greg decided he had embarrassed himself enough in front of the Head Boy and instead of heading to the prefects compartment, made his way towards the back of the train, praying for an empty compartment to hide in until the train arrived at Hogwarts. As luck would have it, there was a compartment abandoned because the lights were malfunctioning. Greg shut the door behind him and lay down on the bench.

***

Back in the prefects’ compartment, Mycroft grew fidgety. He stood abruptly, announcing his intentions to no one but Anthea. “I have rounds of my own to make,” and with that he exited into the train’s corridor.

Mycroft wandered up and down the halls, giving stern looks to misbehaving students and did his best to keep up his icy persona. He made his way to the back of the train and was about to turn around when he glanced into an empty compartment containing Greg Lestrade.

Greg had relaxed into the bench and was using his wand to conjure up an image of the night sky directly above his line of sight.

Impressed at the way the younger student handled the difficult charm, Mycroft observed from the corner, not wanting to interrupt.

Greg flicked his wand again and suddenly shooting stars were flying across his sky. He began using his wand to trace constellations in the night sky when he heard a knock on the door. Panicking he eliminated the charm and got up to open the compartment door.

Staring at a slightly startled Gryffindor Mycroft cleared his throat. “I wanted to ensure that your rounds had gone smoothly,” he blurted out lying.

Greg eyed him for a moment, “Yeah, everything was alright. Did you need me for something?”

Mycroft cleared his throat again, trying to find a way to compliment him without making it obvious he was spying. “Nothing further just a general check-in...that was very impressive magic you were conjuring...especially for a fifth year.

“I’m really sorry for conjuring on the train...”

“You misunderstand me,” Mycroft smiled nervously, he had obviously interrupted a peaceful moment and was growing more uneasy with each instant that passed, “I was trying to compliment your work, but I fear that went badly somehow...”

“Uh, yeah I guess it was decent. I’ve always had a thing for charms for some reason, not sure why.”

“I can see that. You indeed have a talent. I shall leave you to your alone time, I am most sorry to have interrupted.”

Mycroft turned to walk away when Greg called out, “Want to see it?”

Mycroft tripped on his last step, surprised by the invitation. “If it is no trouble I would not mind. If you want to be alone though, do not feel obligated.”

“Come in. I’d quite like the company.”

Greg shut the door behind Mycroft and explained, “It’s just a modified atmospheric charm. I’m not trying to make it rain you know?”

Laying down on the ground, Greg looked up at a confused Slytherin. “It, just, um, much better to see it from the floor, but if you don’t wanna sit down here I get it.”

Mycroft shrugged, removing the expensive outer robe so he stood in his school sweater and trousers.

"I don't mind," he mumbled and lay beside Greg waiting for the show to begin.

Smiling, Greg raised his hands and whispered, “Meteolojinx Noctum” and slowly a night sky began to appear over the two boys, and when finished placed his hands behind his head, admiring his handy work.

Mycroft was in awe at the scene. “Are the stars randomly placed?”

“No this is an actual version of the sky at night. I was about to trace constellations before I thought I was being caught.”

“I apologize for the interruption. I’ve actually never taken astronomy before. Do you mind demonstrating?”

"Don’t fret. It was a nice surprise. Now tell me when your birthday is."

“The 24th of May.”

Greg pondered for a second, “Taurus, alright.” Waving his wand, the sky rotated. Once it stopped he steadied his wand and began to trace a rather abstract looking bull. “That’s the Taurus constellation; it’s the constellation from you sign.”

Mycroft was bemused. "It does not look much like a bull."

“Yeah I've never been sure what made people think of these shapes in the first place, but here is mine."

"What is yours?"

Greg traced an arrow in the sky. "Sagittarius."

After a few minutes of silence, Greg muttered, “I haven't taken astronomy by the way...thought you should know.”

“You have not? Then how do you know these constellations and why have you not taken the course if you have such a fascination with them?”

Greg considered the questions, attempting to word the answers correctly. "My Da's fond of the night sky, took me out to stargaze often when I was a kid. I don’t really have time to take astronomy. I stick to more practical electives and," Greg thought better than to say what else he does. "And yeah, just practical stuff."

Mycroft caught the stumble, wondering what else he had been about to say. Still, not wanting to seem nosy, he ignored it and nodded. "It makes sense. What are your courses this year?"

“The usual fifth year course: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and Herbology. Also just one elective, Muggle Studies.”

“That’s quite the list, I was not too fond of my fifth year if I recall correctly.” Mycroft decided to not question why he was lacking an additional elective.

"Well the OWLs are this year. Got to make it count."

Greg turned back to look at the sky again, and absently flicked his wand, causing shooting stars to fly by. “Make a wish Myc.”

Mycroft closed his eyes, silently wishing for the impossible.

Please let this go further than the train ride. At least let him find me tolerable.

Greg turned to look at the ginger; seeing his eyes closed he wanted to lean in to kiss his cheek, make him turn red again but decided against it. The head boy of Hogwarts was not going to want with a fifth year that had to use his open elective to work in the kitchen. Greg wasn’t even certain Mycroft liked boys. Sighing, Greg looked back to the sky making his own wish.

Mycroft heard the sigh, but resisted the urge to look right away. He bit his lip slightly, head tilting in Greg's direction. "What did you wish for?"

Greg smiled a little sadly, "I can't tell you Myc that wouldn’t allow my wish to come true." Greg wasn't going to say it was for a date to the Yule Ball with the boy lying beside him. Hell he didn't even have dress robes.

"I was not aware of that stipulation.” This was not one of the muggle customs he had researched.

More silence passed between them and Mycroft wondered if the boy had plans for the ball. Eager to broach the topic, Mycroft asked, “Could you do this for the ball?"

Greg leaned on his elbow looking stunned "I...I can't...I can try I mean...it would take some practice that is."

"Of course," Mycroft said smoothly. "It really is quite incredible; it would be a stunning addition to the decoration."

Greg was so touched by the compliment that he didn’t notice when he placed his hand on Mycroft’s when he said, “Thanks.”

"Pleasure," Mycroft absently replied. He was too distracted by the hand on top of his. People did not usually want to touch him.

Greg pulled his hand away realizing his mistake. “Sorry about that...I, I should probably start to round up the first years, yeah?”

Mycroft got up and looked out the window, and was startled to see how much time had passed. "Yes, I do believe you are correct," he said ruefully.

Greg dismantled the night sky and got up from the ground. He pulled the chocolate frog he got from the cart earlier and held it out. “Here. I got you this earlier.” Greg handed the chocolate frog to Mycroft, who looked rather taken aback.

"Thank you?" He cursed himself for sounding so uncertain, but he accepted the frog, turning it over in his hands.

"Just promise not to open it until later!" Greg blurted out.

Mycroft looked weary at the statement. It must be some joke or prank that he does not want to be present for. Mycroft turned his face into a blank canvas and asked, “When am I to open the frog?"

"Oh, you can open it tonight after the opening feast if you'd like,” Greg said quietly not knowing why Mycroft’s face had changed so drastically.

Mycroft nodded. "Many thanks for your time, Gregory," he said with a brief smile.

"My pleasure Myc,” and exited the compartment with a wink. As he walked out the rest of the night sky dissipated.

Mycroft sighed, leaning against the wall to memorize that wink. It was pathetic, how he was acting like a smitten teenager.

Greg walked down the train to the first year car thinking of his note tucked into the chocolate frog, hoping Mycroft didn’t simply toss the treat in the rubbish bin.

The words "lunch tomorrow?" seemed so simple but had a rather the high potential for rejection.

***

Mycroft sat watching the sorting with appraising eyes. His gaze kept sliding over to where Gregory sat at the Gryffindor table with his fellow Quidditch teammates.

Greg, on the other hand, was keeping a mental count to the amount of first years he was getting assigned and kept an eye on his housemates, some who insisted on enchanting goblets to taste bitter. All the while he kept getting the feeling someone was watching him.

Mycroft shook his head, forcing his attention back to the feast. He was glad when it was over, retreating quickly to the private dorm for head boy and girl, and tearing the frog open. Mycroft stared at the note - an invitation to lunch. He wondered if this was all some elaborate joke; after all, what would the younger boy want with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH (yes her initials are the same as Mycroft!). Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)


	3. Lakeside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg waits lakeside for Mycroft for lunch, and he has a feeling he may get stood up. Mycroft just doesn't want it to be a joke.

When Potions let out for the day, Greg walked over to the owlery to send off a letter to his parents and his sister. The letter told them about the Yule Ball and how he may need one of dad’s suits to go under whatever dress robes he can acquire if he got a date. Eloise’s letter told her about his train ride in and the handsome ginger he chatted up. His sister was better with boys than he was, and he needed some advice. He had only come out to his family over the summer, but when he did, Eloise simply jumped off her seat saying “Called it!” and gave her brother a hug. His parents were taking it  in stride, however.

Once the owl was on its way, Greg made his way down to the lake, hoping Mycroft not only read his note, but accepted. He kept looking around, keeping an eye out for the Slytherin boy, but he was nowhere in sight.

Mycroft waited under the doorway hesitantly. If he waited much longer, he would be late, but he wasn't sure he could bear the inevitable humiliation if he was simply the victim of an elaborate joke. He’s heard the antics of the Quidditch teams at school, and was in no mood for being dangled upside down or hexed into vomiting.

Greg let a few more minutes pass and continued to see no sign of Mycroft. He picked himself up and began to walk the edge of the lake – there was no use in having his classmates see him sulking on the ground after all.

Mycroft saw Greg walking alone by the lake. There seemed to be no audience nearby, he thought to himself, so that would lessen the chance of a prank, unless a group was somewhere nearby hiding. No matter, he was Mycroft Holmes, he would face this, and if this was a joke he would do what he always did – put on his mask, become the iceman of Hogwarts, and take his revenge in unnoticeable ways.  Mycroft created an impassive mask on his face and approached Greg.

"Gregory?" Mycroft called out without much feeling.

Greg flinched. The cold tone in Mycroft’s voice didn’t give him much hope that this lunch was occurring. He just wished this let down was going to be easy. He turned around, "Yeah?"

“I don’t...” Mycroft paused. In a quick second he noticed the tightness around Greg’s eyes and the way he was worrying his lip. It almost looked sincere, like he legitimately wanted him there. Maybe he wasn’t being put-on.

“I do apologize for being late I hope you can forgive me for that."

Greg breathed a sigh of relief, "Yeah, of course, totally forgivable. Much better than being stood up."

"I apologize if I gave you the impression I would." Mycroft was confused by the look of earnest in Greg’s eyes.

"No, nah, you didn't give that impression, I just figured if you didn't show it’s because why the hell would a seventh year want to spend his lunch with a fifth year, from an opposite house no less."

Mycroft shrugged. "I find the house rivalries rather petty, in all honesty. And I find that age is hardly an appropriate point of judgement; the majority of people in my own year are far less interesting."

“Interesting, hmm. Not a word I get very often to describe myself.”

Mycroft quirked an eyebrow at this.

“Well I get studious, hardworking, good on a broom, and some more off-coloured comments, but not interesting.”

Mycroft frowned at the last comment, “I hope no one is giving you any trouble Gregory,” he said smoothly, already planning how to best end any harassment. If only Azkaban took minors.

"Nothing I can't handle. Trash talk just gets heated on the pitch sometimes is all I'm saying," Greg mumbled, waving dismissively.

"I see. The last captain has graduated; do you know who is taking his place?" Mycroft asked, suspecting it was either Gregory or John Watson, but wanting to allow Greg the opportunity to say it himself.

"Uh, Watson is taking over this year..."

“I see, a good choice, I am sure. I had thought perhaps you may have gotten it."

"I didn't try for the position."

"Why not? I have seen you play; you are skilled enough, and you seem the type with a good strategic mind."

"Heh, thanks. I, um, have too much on my plate at the moment. Watson has time for plays and planning so he is the best man for the job."

Mycroft eyed Gregory, he could sense he was holding something back from the story. "I am sure the two of you will lead the team to victory this year," Mycroft said. "You have many good players. Some of the best."

"I won't tell your house you said that" Greg laughed and bumped Mycroft's shoulder teasingly.

Mycroft chuckled, feeling a slight tingling where Greg had touched him. "Indeed," he said dryly. "In fact, I fear the Slytherin team is, sadly, rather weak. Too much cheating, and not nearly enough sportsmanship."

The two boys sat in pleasant silence for a few moments before Greg looked at his watch. "We better head back, classes are starting up again soon."

Mycroft nodded with a sigh. "Pity. We shall have to do this again sometime," he said hopefully.

“Really?! I mean, yeah, I'd like that. I'm only available on Mondays though" because the rest of the time I'm in the kitchen with the house elves during lunch, Greg mentally provided, but he cute boy before him doesn't need to know that.

"What keeps you through lunch hours?" he asked curiously.

"Odds and ends, that's all," hoping Mycroft wouldn't pry further. Last thing he needed was the school catching word that Greg is one of the few students who couldn't afford Hogwarts and was dealing with the wizarding version of financial aid.

Mycroft nodded, curious but not wanting to scare Gregory off. He wondered if this was connected the thing he hadn't wanted to say on the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)


	4. The Iceman Cometh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft eavesdrops on a conversation between the Gryffindor quidditch players and brings out his inner iceman.

For the next several weeks, it was a certainty that on Mondays you would see Mycroft Holmes eating lunch with Greg Lestrade on the shore of the lake. At first most students paid it no mind – thought it was just a prefect meeting with the Head Boy. But once people saw it occurring regularly they started to talk.

Greg was waiting by the shore at his usual spot when he heard footsteps approaching him. He turned, assuming it was Mycroft, when instead he saw Donovan and Dimmock coming over to see him.

“Hullo, what can I do for you,” Greg questioned.

Donovan sat down next to him, “Just wondering what you’re doing here is all.”

“Waiting for a friend for lunch.”

Dimmock scoffed, “What that poshy tosser Slytherin you’re always hanging around with?”

Greg fixed Dimmock with a stare, “Oi! Watch it. Yes that’s who I’m meeting and he’s not a tosser.”

Mycroft was striding over to his usual meeting spot when he saw Greg sitting by two of his teammates. He didn’t want to interrupt but was curious was Greg so flustered. Lucky for Mycroft he always kept a modified extendable ear in his pocket for such occasions.

Donovan snorted, “Yeah right. The man acts like he owns the school and he’s related to that freak in Ravenclaw so he can’t be all there. Besides, I heard his parents were death eaters, so he’s probably just leading you on for some elaborate joke between him and his Slytherin pals.”

“They call him the iceman for a reason Greg. He’s got no heart and he’ll use anyone to get his way. Even Adler in Ravenclaw is put off by him and that girl can take down anyone,” Dimmock added.

Greg was slightly disturbed by the information he was hearing. It’s not like he hadn’t heard the nickname before, he just never understood it. Mycroft couldn’t be the iceman; he was practically bright red around him half of the time.

All Mycroft had to see was the look in Gregory’s eyes to know he had lost the slim chance he had at having as his only real friend, let alone anything more. He put his extendable ear back and turned to walk off.

“You two prats have no clue what you’re talking about so kindly piss off.”

“Fine Lestrade, but when you find yourself at the centre of some Mudblood sacrifice, I’ll be sure to say I told you so,” Sally snickered as she walked off.

Greg looked around the lake and saw no sign of Mycroft. “Brilliant,” he huffed lying back on the grass.

***

Monday classes ended and Greg saw no sign of Mycroft until dinner. The Head Boy was seated at the end of the Slytherin table removed from everyone else except the ever-present, ever-silent Anthea. Greg stalked over, determined to find out why their lunch had been skipped.

Mycroft saw Greg moving towards him and sculpted his face into the impassive mask he wore so well. “Greetings Gregory. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“You weren’t at lunch today,” Greg pointed out.

“Yes, I fear I had other obligations to attend to, please accept my apologies,” he countered.

“That’s fine,” Greg sighed, “but are we still on for next Monday?”

“I’m afraid not Gregory. I regret to inform you that I will no longer be able to continue our weekly rendezvous,” Mycroft replied. “More important matters have come to my attention and I find I can no longer waste my time on such frivolities.”

Pretending to not have heard their lunches referred to as frivolities Greg bit his lip before asking, “That’s fine I can rearrange my days. What day is good for you?”

Mycroft cruelly smirked, “I do not think you understand my meaning Gregory, but that is understandable given your average intelligence. I do not wish to continue my acquaintance with you further.”

Greg looked crestfallen, “I don’t understand Myc. Did I do something wr-,”

“That is precisely it, you do not understand,” Mycroft spat, cutting Greg off.

“I get it, Myc, I’ll leave...,” Greg mumbled as he walked off wounded.

Once Greg was out of sight Anthea glared at Mycroft, throwing mental daggers in his direction.

“Needs must my dear. Needs must.”

***

For the next three weeks Greg sat at their spot every Monday and for three weeks Mycroft watched from afar. He was used to shoving his emotions away and locking them behind proverbial closed doors.

On the fourth week while Greg was laying in the grass casting tiny fireballs at the falling leaves when John came over to do damage control.

John lay silently next to Greg for a few minutes before asking, “Is there something you want to talk about.”

Greg set another leaf on fire, “Not particularly.”

John huffed, “Greg you spend every Monday out here, and it’s your only lunch break off, so there has to be a reason.” John was the only person who knew where his friend was during his lunch and evenings, which helped immensely with the Quidditch scheduling.

“He bloody dumped me John. We weren’t even going out and he dumped me!” Greg growled, charring another unsuspecting leaf.

“I figured that’s what this strop was about. I pried some information out of Sherlock and he mentioned something about Donovan and Dimmock?”

A snarled escaped Greg’s mouth, “That wanker, I swear to Godric, I’m going to ring his neck!” Greg stood up and stalked off, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

John jumped off the ground, “Oi! Watch the flames you pyro.”

Greg flicked his wrist and the flames dissipated.

“Where are you going,” John yelled.

“To retrieve my poshy tosser,” he swore.

***

After stalking around the grounds, Greg caught word that Mycroft could usually be found in the library in between classes.

Greg stormed in searching the tables and shelves until he spotted the ginger. He stomped towards Mycroft, quickly hexing him under his breath so he couldn’t move. “You’re coming with me,” he growled as he yanked him by the robe, and dragged him to the supply closet.

He cast a silencing charm on the door. “I’m not undoing the spell until you bloody listen to me Holmes. Donovan and Dimmock are a pair of wankers who are only good on the pitch. Whatever you heard them say, you obviously didn’t hear my reply of ‘piss off’ if not you wouldn’t have bloody ignored me for the last bloody month. I don’t care what people say about you, to me you aren’t Mycroft Holmes or the iceman, you’re Myc and Myc was one of the best friends I ever had, and I would like him back thank you very much.”

Greg ended his rant with a huff and undid the hex.

Mycroft stood blinking at him. “We’re friends?” he coughed out.

Greg quirked an eyebrow, “You’re thick you know that?”

“I have been informed.”

“Good. So will I see you next Monday or will I have to hex you again?”

“Next Monday,” Mycroft affirmed.

“Good.” Greg opened the door and left a rather stunned Mycroft Holmes in the library supply closet.

 


	5. Apologies and Invitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft apologizes. Greg extends an invitation.

Greg sat at the usual spot on Monday, waiting to see if Mycroft would show up. It had taken every bit of Greg’s courage and anger to berate Mycroft like that, and he wasn’t sure if he had it in him to do it again.

Greg was lost in his concentration when he felt someone sit next to him on the grass.

“I brought you a sandwich,” Mycroft mumbled, still internally debating whether or not he should have come. Greg took the proffered sandwich and began to chew it silently.

Mycroft looked closely at the younger boy, noting that he hadn’t slept well in a few days and judging by the bruise forming on his hip (Mycroft could tell by the way he was sitting) Quidditch practice hadn’t gone all that well.

Minutes of silence passed between them before Greg spoke, “I wasn’t entirely sure you were going to show.” Mycroft smirked, his lips forming a tight line. “Truthfully, I almost did not. But I was afraid of being hexed again.”

More silence passed before Mycroft spoke again, “Did you really mean what you said? Are we indeed friends?”

Greg turned to look at the ginger, shoving his in the shoulder hard enough to throw Mycroft off-balance. “Do you know you are an utter prat sometimes? Of course we’re friends.”

Mycroft smiled sadly, “I was not certain, forgive me. I have not had many good examples of such relationships in the past.” Greg processed what Mycroft had said and it broke his heart a bit.

“Well we’re friends, that is if you stop being an idiot and ask me what I think about you rather than go off of Donovan, Dimmock, or whomever.”

“I shall try my best Gregory,” Mycroft chuckled. Greg smiled, he had missed that laugh more than he remembered.

The rest of lunch went on as usual, with an agreement by both boys that they would see each other next Monday.

***

Three weeks after their reunion, Greg and Mycroft sat on the lakeshore chatting about their classes and Mycroft’s progress on the Yule Ball.

“It’s going to be the first Hogsmeade visit of the year this weekend,” Greg stated hopefully.

"It is indeed," Mycroft replied, wondering if it might be headed where he hoped it was. He would really like nothing better than ask Greg to Hogsmeade, not as friends, but as something more, but he was now afraid of ruining the friendship they had built after Mycroft’s idiotic behaviour.

Greg fidgeted with the hem of his shirt fretfully. He breathed in deep and said, "I have the day free actually, and if you wouldn't mind I'd like to buy you a butterbeer" Greg said, running his hand through his hair nervously.

Mycroft's was certain he had forgotten how to breathe. He nodded before choking out, "I would be honoured, Gregory.” His eyes landed on Greg's hair, and wished it were his hands running through the short, brown strands.  

Greg was smiling so wide it began to hurt his cheeks. "Meet me on Saturday by the front gate? That’s if you don't mind walking there with me?" Mycroft nodded. "Of course, yes. I look forward to it," he blushed to the roots of his hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading so far. Its nice waking up in the morning and seeing a notification that I got kudos! 
> 
> Feel free to leave feedback or comments!


	6. Hogsmeade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft take a trip to Hogsmeade where Greg lets Mycroft in on a secret.

The day of the Hogsmeade visit came, and Greg waited by the gate, kicking some pebbles to keep his nerves at ease.

Mycroft approached the gate, looking nervous, but happy. “Hello Gregory,” he greeted with a hesitant smile. Greg returned the smile, “Ready to head out?” Mycroft nodded and the two started walking to town.

As they walked, Greg kept resisting the urge to grab Mycroft's hand despite them walking so close together. He kept reminding himself that he did even know if Mycroft liked boys let alone him. Every attempt he made at school to find out if Mycroft Holmes liked boys, let alone anyone, was met with a dead end. He went so far as to ask John to Sherlock, hoping he would know. John said he would ask and when Greg pressed further he just stammered and got red-faced by Greg’s insinuation about the Ravenclaw.

Mycroft noticed the occasional movement in Greg's hand, wondering what would happen if he held it. They weren't together, but Greg's actions seemed to lead in that direction. Still, he didn't act on the desire, not wanting to misjudge this. This was too important.

They arrived at the Three Broomsticks and made their way towards the back through the sea of students. Greg noticed a few odd looks, some from Slytherin students who weren’t sure what their Head Boy was doing with Greg, and a few from his housemates who loved voicing their disapproval of their friendship.  Once seated Greg offered to get the drinks and left Mycroft to guard the table. Mycroft sat patiently, determined to slip a few coins into Greg's bag before they left. He knew he wasn't especially well to do, obvious by the second hand robes, and didn't want to be a burden on his friend. His eyes followed Greg longingly across the pub.

Greg came back with two butter beers and handed one to Mycroft. Greg sipped his drink slowly hoping he could calm himself down. "Myc, how are the plans for the Yule Ball coming along?"

Mycroft sipped his own, looking over the glass to Greg. "Well enough. The date is set, the band booked. A menu still needs to be made up, though, and decorations. Can you still do the ceiling?" he asked hopefully. "Yeah, the ceiling shouldn't be a problem. Do you think you could get me some practice times in the Great Hall before the event? I don't want to make it rain on people accidentally,” Greg joked. Mycroft nodded in assurance.

Greg looked around the pub, hoping by some miracle that what he was about to do wouldn’t cause a scene. He took a deep breath and asked, "Myc, you wouldn't be taking Anthea to the ball by any chance would you?"

Mycroft tried to hide the disappointment from his face. Of course, Greg was interested in Anthea. Who wasn't? "No, no. She is available, but I do not believe she is planning on attending beyond the necessary appearance as head girl," he shrugged. "You could try, I suppose," he muttered half-heatedly.

Greg ran his hands through his hair again and took in another deep breath at least happy that Mycroft didn’t have a date yet. "Myc, I have a question about the ball but there is something I need to tell you before.” Mycroft looked at Greg, unsure of where he was going. The Gryffindor looked like he was readying himself to be punched, and he wasn’t sure why.

Greg looked down, essentially talking at his butterbeer. “I, uh, I work in the school kitchen Tuesday through Friday during lunch and some nights. My parents couldn't exactly help too much with books and robes so the school gave them to me in exchange for work. I'm going to be showing up to the ball in my Da's suit and whatever dress robes I can afford but I wanted to know if this was alright with you,” Greg spat out as quickly as he could. He then took a gulp of his butterbeer and finished his thought, “because as head boy I'm sure you want the place to have a certain quality."

Mycroft had known Greg wasn’t the best off, but he hadn't realized how much. "Gregory, I'm sorry, I didn't realize." He looked down at the drink in his hands and felt even worse. "Of course, you can come in whatever you feel is best. The most important thing is that you get to enjoy the evening like anyone else." Mycroft silently decided to buy Gregory robes and mail them to him anonymously. He wouldn't accept charity from him, he knew that, even if he didn't see it as charity, but he wanted Gregory to feel confident at the ball, even if he was taking Anthea.  

"Well...good...because this brings me to my question. I know I'm not going to be the best dressed there, and hell I'm not even sure if you like boys," Greg rambled, "but I've never seen you around this other girls and I mean if you aren't taking Anthea you must not be into girls because Irene in Ravenclaw says every boy and girl in this school is after her, and Irene knows what she’s talking about. And I'm so lucky I got to be a prefect this year because honestly I noticed you when I was a third year and I never thought you would go for a pauper like me but you actually gave me the time of day and, and...willyougototheYuleballwithme?" Greg spat out.

Mycroft was reeling, trying to keep up with the Gerry fast and rambling speech. However, he thought he might have understood the gist of it. "I- yes, Gregory, yes," he stammered. "It would be my honour," he tried to calm down a bit. "Really?!" Greg exclaimed as he grabbed Mycroft's hand over the table.

Mycroft stared at Greg’s hands holding his. It felt too unreal for him at the moment. He couldn’t understand what Greg saw in him. He was poor company at best and Greg’s association with him got him teased quite a bit. Taking him as a date wouldn’t help the situation. Then there was Mycroft’s appearance – ginger hair he couldn’t charm into any other colour and freckles covering him from head to toe. Added to his pudgy appearance he was becoming convinced Greg needed glasses. "You- why would you be interested in me?" he asked, bewildered.

"Myc, have you see you? Of course I'm interested. You're the most intelligent man I've meet, you are devilishly handsome, and like the Doctor I’ve always had a thing for gingers.”

Mycroft blushed at the compliments but still looked confused, “Who’s the Doctor.”

Greg laughed, “Never you mind. You’ll really go with me though.” Mycroft nodded.

The two sat in silence smiling at each other for a few moments before Mycroft, slightly hurt, asked, “You thought I would reject you over appearances and money Gregory?”

Greg started talking to his beer again, unable to make eye contact while murmuring, “You deserve someone equally outstanding. You're from a pure line of wizards, why would you muck about with me I thought, but then I got to know you and I thought I'd take a shot."

Mycroft squeezed Greg's hand. "You should know by now, blood status means nothing to me. You are fascinating and intelligent, and the most attractive man I know. But you are a Gryffindor, with lots of friends and you are well liked, so I cannot imagine why you associate with me."

“Looks like we’re both idiots, lovely. We’ll make quite a pair then,” Greg giggled.

Greg grabbed Mycroft's hand and tugged towards the exit of the bar. "Come on I want to show you something," Greg exclaimed, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the other patrons.

Mycroft followed with a wide smile. Greg had asked him to the ball. Gregory Lestrade. He felt as giddy as a schoolgirl, and he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

After walking for quite a bit, Greg stopped on the middle of the path back to school once he spotted a patch of grass the two could lay on, uninterrupted. Greg sat down and held his hand up, signalling Mycroft to do the same. Mycroft sat down, unsure of what Greg had in mind.

"I won't be able to do this as well as in the train but here it goes." Greg lay on the ground and conjured up a mini version of the night sky. Mycroft inhaled sharply as it appeared. It was beautiful. He could recognize pieces of it, now, and he smiled adoringly at Greg. "Beautiful," he murmured.

"Here's the best part" Greg waved his wand, whispering, and the night lit up with fireworks. Mycroft stared with eyes wide. It was stunning. He watched, entranced, as the sky exploded into colour and sound. "Do you like it Myc,” Greg asked cautiously, “I thought we could use it for the ball if I got enough practice in."

"Merlin, Gregory. That is glorious. Simply spectacular. I will get you all the practice time you need." Mycroft was awed by the magic. Greg reached over to grab Mycroft's hand, not rushed like at the Three Broomsticks but cautiously, trying to make sure Mycroft was alright with it. Mycroft smiled, squeezing Greg's hand. "You really are quite extraordinary," he murmured, half to himself. Greg leaned over and placed an innocent kiss on Mycroft's cheek. "Should we head back to the castle?"

Mycroft blushed, feeling his cheek tingling where Greg had kissed him. "I suppose," he said reluctantly. Greg stood up and extended his hand pull him off the ground. Mycroft smiled, tangling his fingers with Greg's. Once he was upright, he bit his lip and pressed a small kiss to the corner of Greg's mouth before blushing and looking away. He knew he must look like a fool, but he had never been in a relationship before, and he couldn't help himself.

Greg stood there in awe. Mycroft Holmes liked him. Mycroft Holmes had half kissed him. Mycroft Holmes was holding his hand. "You look cute when you blush you know?"  Mycroft just blushed harder, looking at the ground. "I've never done this before," he said quietly. "So if I do rubbish at it, I am sorry."

Greg grabbed Mycroft's chin and tipped it up towards him, "Myc, you are just as new to this as me...and you aren't rubbish at it." Mycroft smiled shyly. "Thank you, Gregory." He bit his bottom lip slightly, gathering the nerve to kiss Greg properly.

"Can I hold your hand on the way back to the castle?" Greg asked hopefully. "I mean I understand if you don't want to, appearances and all. Probably don’t want people to figure out a weak spot or something."

Mycroft shook his head in disagreement. "I am not ashamed of you, Gregory. I would gladly show you off to the world, and damn appearances. You’re a weak spot I would gladly have known." Greg gripped Mycroft's hand tighter and started walking back towards the castle.

"When do you think I can start practicing in the Great Hall?" Greg asked.

"I will speak to the headmistress, but I expect there will be time this week." Mycroft suggested. "Perfect...you wouldn't mind being in the Great Hall when I practice would you?"

"Not at all. I had planned on it, in honesty." Mycroft said. "I do like to see you work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like where the story is going so far! As always comments and suggestions are appreciated.


	7. Built from Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg tries his night sky spell in the Great Hall for the first time

Greg arrived at the Great Hall late one night, two weeks after the Hogsmeade trip. His shift downstairs in the kitchen had ended and he was looking forward to practicing in the Great Hall and some alone time with Mycroft. Aside from their weekly lunch, he hadn’t had much time with him. He entered the Great Hall and Mycroft has yet to arrive. He decided to bypass the time by transfiguring the napkins into tulips.

The doors of the Great Hall opened, and Mycroft strolled through in a huff. "I apologize for being late. The headmistress wanted a word." He sat on one of the benches and noticed the flowers. "These are good. What did you make them from?"

"Napkins," Greg said smiling. "I've been working hard at transfiguration this year, figured I would get in some practice. This one is for you." Greg held out a single tulip whose petals gradually morphed into different shades. "Oh," Mycroft breathed, staring at it. "Thank you." It was amazing.

"Professor McGonagall will have to accept you to the NEWT level at the rate you’re going," he stated. “Yeah, that’s my goal.”

Greg walked around the hall a bit and called out to Mycroft "Any idea how you want this to look?"

"Creative license is all yours," he said, curious to see what Greg would come up with.

Greg closed his eyes in concentration and began moving his wand in front of him. Slowly a dark blue stream began to pour out from his wand tip. The ceiling above him began to fill with the night sky and it spanned almost a fourth of the great hall. Mycroft admired his handiwork. It was quite stunning, the effect. Greg kept muttering and soon stars began to blink into existence.

After what seemed like eternity Greg leaned against one of the benches visibly exhausted. Mycroft walked over to him, offering him a drink. "Cheers," Greg said, holding up the pumpkin juice. "Does it look alright?  Hopefully I can stretch it further next time. Just have to pick the right memory"

"It is stunning," Mycroft nodded. "Is that how it works, you build them from memories?"

"I've always found charms are easier when you concentrate on a happy memory, like when you make a patronus" Mycroft nodded. "That makes sense. What memory were you using?"

"Um, it’s embarrassing actually," Greg said turning away to look at the sky. "Oh, go ahead," Mycroft smiled. "I won't laugh, I swear."

"I was remembering the time when I was six and my Da took me out on my first camping trip to stargaze, he had this big telescope with him and we spent the night making some snack called s'mores, apparently learned from his time in the States, and it was absolutely brilliant." Greg smiled continuing, "But to create the stars, well, I thought of you and your reaction the first time you saw what I could do in the train.”

Mycroft blushed a bit when he heard one of the memories was of him. "It's one of my favourite memories as well," he confided. "That was lovely. You sound as if you are quite close to your family."

"Yeah, my family is close. Mum, Da and Eloise, my sister. They were quite shocked with the whole wizard thing and they've taken it in stride. I miss them something awful most of the time, it’s hard when you can't ask your folks to a Quidditch match when they used to make it to all your football games," Greg smirked sadly explaining. "You are lucky to have them," Mycroft murmured.

"Are you close with your family? Any other brothers aside from cheekbones in Ravenclaw?" Mycroft shook his head, "My family is not so warm as yours. Father and Mother are still traditionally pureblood, and I frankly see barely more of them over holidays than during the school year. I raised Sherlock, and we were quite close, once, but he has come to resent me over the years. I had a sister, between myself and Sherlock, but she died very young. That was when Mother started drinking," he sighed. "I much prefer it here, than at home."

Greg was curious about Mycroft's sister but didn't want to pry too much. "Are you going home for the winter holidays then?" Greg asked. Mycroft shrugged. "Most likely, although I may find an excuse to remain here. Christmas is rarely a festive season, and I would honestly prefer to avoid the melodrama." Greg replied sadly, “That's a shame. I love Christmas."

Silence passed between them for a few moments before Greg began laugh to himself over a rather silly thought. "What's so funny?" Mycroft asked, bewildered. "Nothing, I was just thinking of what it would be like if I brought you home for the holidays. Mycroft Holmes and a muggle Christmas."

"It can't be any worse than the wizard Christmas," he chuckled ruefully. "But I wouldn't want to impose."

"You'd never impose, but I'm sure you'll keep yourself busy here." Greg made a mental note to himself to write his parents asking to bring a friend for the holidays.

The boys lay on the floor of Great Hall for a long time staring at the sky, holding hands. After an hour, Greg kissed Mycroft’s cheek and said, "It's late Myc, we should probably get some sleep" Mycroft nodded, "Let me walk you to your room at least.” Greg grabbed his hand and they made their way towards the exit.

Greg walked hand in hand with Mycroft through the corridors, all the way to the Fat Lady's painting. "Just let me know when we have the Great Hall again to practice, okay?" Greg yawned sleepily.

"I will be in touch." Mycroft took his time letting go of Greg’s hand and with a quick burst of nerves, kissed Greg squarely on the lips, before stepping away, and fighting the instinct to flee. "Goodnight." Mycroft said as he turned to walk back to his dormitory. 

Greg stood at the entrance to the common room utterly stunned and lost in his thoughts. He was just kissed by Mycroft Holmes, his first kiss no less (unless you count the one a girl surprised him with during his third year). He stood there entranced as Mycroft walked off and was only broken out of his thought when the Fat Lady began to sing some Italian song clearly about love.

Mycroft couldn't help his little smile as he headed toward his own common room. He had finally kissed Greg! Mycroft didn't say a word to Anthea in the head common room, simply collapsing on the couch with a blissful sigh. She rolled her eyes and returned to her magazine.

Greg lay in his four post bed that night tracing his lips trying to hold on to the feeling of Mycroft pressed against them

***

Greg awoke the next morning having had the best sleep of his life. He felt if he didn't tell someone he'd have no other proof to remember Mycroft’s kiss. He found John Watson is the common room looking over Quidditch plays.

"Morning mate," John greeted. He noticed the goofy grin on Greg’s face and with a raised eyebrow said, "You look like you've had a good night.”

Greg grinned, "I got a proper kiss from Mycroft last night." John knew his teammate had been spending more time with the Slytherin boy but he didn’t know it was too serious.

John was surprised, but happy. From the time they had been at school, Mycroft had always had a reputation of being rather uncaring and cold.

"Wow! The iceman does kiss. Congratulations mate." John smiled. Greg scowled at the nickname, “I wish you wouldn’t call him that. He’s really not like that John.”

John held up his hands in protest, “Hey, you weren’t bloody kidnapped by the man during your second year just because you willingly paired up with his brother in Potions and offered you money to spy on him!” Greg visibly laughed at John’s story. “It’s not funny, he can be such a nuisance, when it comes to Sherlock. Granted useful at getting us out of a spot, like the time Sherlock decided he wanted to brew polyjuice potion and give it to unsuspecting first years.”

“Mine might by a bit protective, but yours is bloody insane.” John threw a pillow at Greg, “He’s not mine Lestrade. But, I’m glad you’re happy.”

"Thanks. I'm actually thinking of inviting him home for Christmas if all goes well at the Yule Ball. Sherlock have any plans for the break" Greg said cheekily. "I'm not gay!" John's protests were a bit too loud, though, and he was blushing. "I know you're not...just a bit Sherlockian then," Greg joked winking.

"I'm going to head down to the hall for breakfast. See you in History?" John groaned and nodded. "Can't believe Binns is still around," he grumbled. He didn't comment on his relationship with Sherlock, but his ears had gone a bit red and he wasn't quite making eye contact with Greg.

On his way out of the dorms Greg chuckled at himself, thinking about how bad John had it for Sherlock and he didn’t even know it. 

He walked into the Great Hall remembering the sky he had conjured up the night before. I was only six weeks until the ball and Greg was hoping he wouldn't let Mycroft down.

Mycroft was eating breakfast when Greg entered. He smiled at Greg and waved, strolling over. "Good morning," he greeted with a kiss on the cheek. A blush took over Greg's face as soon as Mycroft's lips left his cheek. "Morning. Sleep well?" Greg asked. “Yes, I did, thank you. Yourself?" Mycroft sat next to Greg at the Gryffindor table.

"Great night of sleep actually. Caught up with John this morning...I told him about our kiss, I, uh, hope you don't mind" Mycroft smiled happy that Greg wasn’t regretting his actions, “Not at all. I do hope he and Sherlock wise up and finally act," he rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I don't know why they deny it."

Greg chuckled, “Good, you see it too then. I guess John gets uppity about not being gay. It’s a bigger issue in the Muggle world than it is here. I guess he's holding on to some of those ideas," Greg says waving his hand in the air dismissively. "As for your brother, I have no idea. I mean he almost hexed me once last year for giving John a hug after great match."

Mycroft shook his head. "John is still stuck in the need to be normal. Someday, he will learn that simply associating with Sherlock is enough to make normal irrelevant. As for Sherlock, well. Sherlock is incredibly observant and intelligent, but he has a massive blind spot for social convention. I doubt he even realizes what he feels. They need a good prod in the right direction," Mycroft chuckled.

"Maybe you can slip something into the Yule Ball preparation to give them that prod," Greg mused, bumping his shoulder into Mycroft's. "I have to be off to classes then work. Let me know when we can practice next, and maybe I can try out the fireworks this time." Mycroft nodded, looking thoughtful. "Indeed. Yes, I will be in touch. Have a good class, Gregory."

Mycroft moved back to his own table in the great hall, working on his essay for transfiguration. He needed his grades to be perfect to gain the confidence he needed in the ministry. His attention was, however, drawn consistently back to Greg, his eyes and his smile and the feel of their lips touching. He fought back a blush.

***

Greg popped off by the owlery before class, sending a letter to his parents about having Mycroft over for the holidays. He hoped his parents wouldn't pry too much into why he was bringing a boy home but parents will be parents. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far! Comments and suggestions are appreciated! 
> 
> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)


	8. On My Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft turns up at the Gryffindor common room in the middle of the night

Greg found himself lounging in the Gryffindor common room late at night after a long night in the kitchen. It had been a few days since he sent his parents a letter asking about the holiday visit, and though they hadn't responded just yet, Eloise took it upon herself to pry into his private life.

> “Dear Greggie,
> 
> Mum and Da are talking over your letter, and I know they won't let me in on the conversation but I'm guessing this boy isn't just a friend. They weren't quite sure what to make of it seeing as you just came out in the summer, but I’m glad to hear you found a bloke. You better tell me about him now, and if you are nice, I'll help you win your case.
> 
> P.S. Miss you something awful.
> 
> Love, Eli"         

Greg folded the letter into his pocket, and got out a piece of parchment to write back his response.

Mycroft stood outside the Gryffindor common room. He wanted to tell Greg he had booked more time in the Great Hall, and was debating whether to just enter, knowing the password (not that he would ever tell anyone who his source was), or whether he should wait, just to keep appearances. The last thing he needed was word getting out that he was breaking into house common rooms over a boy. It would look rather desperate. In the end, however, his impatience won out, and he entered the common room, looking for Greg.

Greg was writing his sister a response when he heard the common room get eerily quiet. The few people still up talking hushed at the site of the Head Boy walking in. Greg looked up and smiled when his sights landed on Mycroft.

"Hello, Gregory. I was hoping we could speak?" Mycroft asked politely, ignoring the silence of the common room. He tried to school his face to a mask of indifference as to not betray any of his emotions in front of the other students.

"Sure," Greg responded warily, not sure what Mycroft had in mind looking a bit grim. It was late at night and he was hoping it wasn't a "we have to talk speech." 

"Do you want to talk here or go somewhere else?" Greg inquired cautiously.

“Perhaps in private," Mycroft said, raising an eyebrow at the Gryffindors unabashedly starting at him.  "Hopefully this matter will not take too long and you can return to your dormitory."

Greg got up from the couch, tucking his hand written letter into his robes and taking a deep breath muttered "lead the way."

The two boys exited the Gryffindor tower and headed to the common room reserved for Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl. Mycroft turned around to face Greg saying, "I got another night to prac-," but was cut off by Greg placing a kiss on Mycroft’s lips, letting it linger longer than their first.

“Sorry, I just wanted to do that one last time…” Greg said sadly. Mycroft look confused, “What are you going on about Gregory?”

“I wanted to kiss you one last time before you ended this,” Greg replied, waving a hand between the two of them.

Mycroft looked confused. "Ended this? Why would I end things between us?" he asked, wondering if he had missed something. Greg looked embarrassed, “Sorry, I thought you were breaking up with me. I mean you did come to my common room late at night looking stern and business like and you ask to speak privately," Greg shrugged.

"I-I understand how my actions may have alarmed you. I apologize. I was simply anxious to be on your company again. We've both been busy, lately, and I wanted to see you.”

“On my company? Sounds cheeky Myc." Greg said with a wink, regaining the confidence that had fled him earlier.

Mycroft blushed, “Oh, I, yes, the next practice in the Great Hall is tomorrow at 8 o’clock. Does that work for you?”

Greg nodded “Sounds good.”

Mycroft drew in a deep breath, and smiling shyly asked, “I thought...if you are available that is…maybe we could meet before then, and I could take you out? Being Head Boy had its privileges.”

"Take me out? As in a proper date?" Greg queried eagerly.

"If you would be... amenable. Yes," Mycroft said nervously.

Greg shouted, "Yes! I mean *cough* of course. Anything I should wear in particular?"

"I believe the occasion calls for an elegant casual,” Mycroft said, hoping he made sense.

"I can't wait Myc,” Greg beamed, “but I should get back to the dorms to get my work done before tomorrow."

Mycroft nodded. "Yes, of course. I shall walk you back then." He hesitated, before kissing Greg, drawing it out in the privacy of the common room.

When Mycroft pulled back, Greg looked dazed. "You'll be the death of me Myc," Greg said as he walked hand in hand with Mycroft back to the dorms.

"I certainly hope not," Mycroft said dryly. "I would be quite upset with myself were that the case."

"But it wouldn't be a bad way to go," Greg said as he walked through the entrance. Mycroft laughed, kissing Greg on the cheek. "Goodnight, Gregory. I hope I haven't kept you too long."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far! Comments and suggestions are appreciated!
> 
> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)


	9. Test Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first date and both boys are anxious to impress the other.

Greg found himself the following afternoon staring into his trunk, unsure of what to wear. He kept grabbing different shirts and holding them up to his chest seeing what matched with his dark blue jeans.

John sat on the bed behind him, laughing at his friend’s anxiety. “Greg, why are you so worked up over this? It’s just a date.”

Greg threw on a plaid shirt on, examined himself, and proceeded to take it off again. He sighed, “Because I’ve never been on a real date before John and I don’t want to muck it up by wearing the wrong outfit. I mean you see him outside of uniform, all tailored and put together, wearing those figure hugging waistcoats. I mean even his bloody uniforms are custom made! I on the other hand have ruddy second hand uniforms and jeans that are three times mended because I keep growing!” Greg let an exasperated grunt escape his mouth and threw himself shirtless on the bed next to John. “It’s hopeless…”

John walked over to the trunk and looked through the pile. He grabbed out a white button-down from the bottom and waved his wand saying an instant ironing spell. “Here put this on and hold up,” John said thoughtfully.

Greg began to button his shirt and John returned with a nice blue jumper from his clothing trunk. It wasn’t the usual Watson comfort style; rather it was fitted, the kind someone would wear to a nice family dinner. “Try this on,” John offered, handing over the jumper.

Greg put it on over his head and adjusted it properly. He smoothed down the front and pulled out the sleeves, rolling the cuffs up a bit. He looked at himself carefully in the mirror and cracked a smile.

“Finally that thing came in handy,” John called from the bed. “Never worn it myself, no occasion to.”

Greg bent down into his trunk and pulled out what looked to John from the bed as a bit of fabric. Greg lifted the collar of the button-down up and fastened the bowtie. It was simple red bowtie that Greg had gotten as a gift from his sister, but he never had occasion to wear it. She’d be glad to know it was accompanying him on his first date.

John looked at him and chuckled, “Greg, no one wears bowties.” Greg frowned, “Oi! Bowties are cool, besides Eloise got it for me.” John shook his head saying, “It looks good mate, just different. Dressed to the 11 I guess then. Off you go!”

Greg look in one last deep breath and walked out of the dormitory and headed to the front gates of the school.

***

Mycroft was pacing at the front gates of the school nervously waiting for Greg. He was dressed casual by this standard – simply wearing jeans and silk button-down shirt. He would have loved to be in his usual three-piece suit, but he wanted to seem more approachable to Greg.

Greg entered the courtyard and saw Mycroft pacing back and forth, kicking up dirt with his shoe then smoothing it down again. It was odd to see his boyfriend (could he even call him that yet?) so unsure of himself when he can command an entire room with a simple stare.

Coming up behind him Greg greeted with a shy smile, “Hello Myc.”

Mycroft straightened up, beaming at Greg. "Hello, Gregory. You look fantastic," he said with a short kiss.

“Not too bad either,” Greg replied smiling, “didn’t even think you owned jeans.”

Mycroft shrugged, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "I only own these. I bought them in case there was ever a need for them, but did not expect to wear them any time soon. They seemed appropriate for tonight." He was glad Greg thought he didn't look as ridiculous as he felt.

"So where to tonight dear?" Greg asked excitedly. "To Hogsmeade first, so that I can take you side-along to Diagon Alley," Mycroft explained.

Greg looked perplexed. “Diagon Alley? Myc it’s the school year. I don’t think we can do that as much as I’d love to. "

"Like I said, there are benefits to being the Head Boy. I was able to acquire passes for us to leave school grounds." Mycroft showed him the papers signed by McGonagall. "You are amazing,” Greg stated in awe.

“Am I allowed to know what we are doing?” he asked. Mycroft smiled. "It's a surprise, but I promise you will enjoy it.” He took Greg's hand as they walked to Hogsmeade.

Greg walked alongside Mycroft completely love-struck. He wasn't sure how he got so lucky or how he was going to be able to keep up.

Mycroft smiled at Greg, pondering this incredible wizard. They reached Hogsmeade fairly quickly, and Mycroft took Greg's hand firmly. "Have you ever been taken on side-along apparition?" Greg shook his head, "no, I haven't, but I hear it’s rather unpleasant. Mycroft warned Greg, before apparating to Diagon Alley. "Ready?" Greg nodded and within seconds they were standing in Diagon Alley.

Greg swayed on his feet a little before getting his bearings. Mycroft looked over him concern, “Are you alright Gregory?” Lestrade coughed a bit, and muttered, "Yeah I'm good. Lead the way."

Mycroft led the way to the Quidditch shop. He paused outside grinning like the cat that caught the canary. "There are new firebolt models being tested, now. They are not on the market yet, but I got permission for us to test them out and have a go on the prototypes before they go on sale." He hoped he had done well; he wanted to better than a typical dinner date, though dinner was after their test flight.

Greg turned wide-eyed to Mycroft. "How did you...I mean what...holy Merlin's y-fronts." Greg grabbed Mycroft and kissed him passionately. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you." Mycroft's eyes widened in surprise, but he kissed Greg back. "I did alright, then, I take it," he smiled. Greg nodded, not trying to hold back the grin on his fact.

“Go on, let’s try them out,” Mycroft said excitedly. Greg took Mycroft's hand as they walked into the shop where the shopkeeper stood behind the counter with two new firebolt prototypes on the counter. He handed off the brooms to the boys and instructed them to go off around back for their test flight. “Thank you,” Mycroft said, while picking up a broom and leading the way.

Once they were outside, Greg mounted the broom and waited for Mycroft to give the go ahead. As soon as he got a nod, Greg kicked off from the ground and took off. Greg was surprised - Mycroft was an unexpectedly good flier. He had never joined a team, but he could obviously handle the broom well.

Greg on the other hand was like a kid in a candy shop on a broom. He was weaving and flipping and doing all sorts of manoeuvres (mainly just showing off for Mycroft). Mycroft smiled fondly, not even trying to keep up. He cheered Greg on, glad he was having fun.

With their time winding down, Greg pulled his broom alongside Mycroft's and precariously kissed him in mid-air. Mycroft's eyes widened in shock, and he gripped his broom hard with one hand, while kissing Greg back. Greg broke off the kiss and lowered the broom down to the ground, a satisfactory smirk painting his face. As he hears Mycroft touch down beside him he turns and asks, "Where to next?"

"We do have to give these back, unfortunately, but I have dinner reservations for us before he have to go back to the hall to practice." He resolved to buy Greg one of the brooms for Christmas or some other holiday. He had obviously enjoyed it very much, and Mycroft would do anything to keep Greg smiling like that.

"Dinner? Myc, you've done more than enough. I'm sure we can just eat at the hall," Greg stated, worried as to how he was going to help Mycroft share the cost of dinner. Mycroft looked down. He had just wanted Greg to have a good time. "I just thought... Yes, of course, if you insist. I had only hoped we might make the most of the trip. We don't get to be alone often."

"I guess we don't get to be alone but I can't really spare too much on a nice dinner..." Greg stated, trying not to make eye contact with Mycroft

“What? I'm taking you out, Gregory, you don't need to pay. I wouldn't ask that of you. Let me do this one thing for you, love," the pet name slipped out before Mycroft could think about it. Greg stared at Mycroft wide eyed. Mycroft scuffed his shoe against the floor, looking unusually insecure. This wasn't politics, he didn't know how to do this, and he was terrified he would screw something up.

"Did you just call me love Myc?" Greg spat out, confused. Mycroft muttered, “Sorry, I was not thinking, I just..." he trailed off, not meeting Greg's eyes. Was this it? Had he screwed it up already? He scared him off with one stupid slip of the tongue.

Within an instant Greg slammed Mycroft against the nearest wall and kissed him as if he was as vital at oxygen. "Oh-" Mycroft gasped. He tangled his arms around Greg, kissing back and trying to keep pace. Greg pulled back gasping "Dinner?" Mycroft laughed in exhilaration and nodded. "Dinner." He took Greg's hand, leading him to the restaurant.

The pair entered the quiet establishment - classy, but not over the top. They made it just on time for their reservation. Mycroft told the waiter his name and they were led to their table.

As they walked towards their table Greg revelled in the word "love." He knew it might not mean the three big words but it was a start. Mycroft on the other hand was still taken aback by the intensity of their kiss, and he knew it must show. "

Myc you alright? You looked dazed,” Greg asked. "That's the effect you seem to have on me," he said with a smile. It was Greg's turn to look dazed. Mumbling he said "So what's good here." Mycroft made a few suggestions, smile stuck in place. He was so distracted by Greg, his lips moving as he talked, the flush to his cheeks.

By the time dessert came Greg was certain he was falling in love. Mycroft couldn't believe how easily they seemed to be falling into place. Conversation flowed easily, and dinner passed in a blur, with Mycroft enjoying every moment.

As the two of them stepped outside the restaurant, Greg was looking forward to more alone time in the great hall. Mycroft kissed Greg softly before wrapping his arms around his waist, apparating back to Hogsmeade. He couldn't help but hope he might have given Greg a memory for tonight. Walking back to the great hall Greg hoped his treat for Mycroft would work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far! Comments and suggestions are appreciated!
> 
> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)


	10. Fly Me To The Moon

The hall was empty as Greg and Mycroft walked in. Greg looked around the room and hoped he could do more than a quarter of the room this time. The pair walked towards the centre of the room and Mycroft sat down on one of the benches once Greg paused. “Ready?” Mycroft asked.

“Yeah,” Greg said before closing his eyes and riffling through the memories he would use to cast the charm tonight. Mycroft could see him focusing, wondering what he was thinking of. It was completely selfish for him to want Greg to be thinking of him while doing this charm, right?

Greg thought about the feeling of riding the prototype broom this afternoon, the sense of freedom he felt in the air as he flew around Mycroft. He began focusing on the smiles and the stares between the two of them and the kiss they shared in mid-air. That, in and of itself, was pure magic.

Mycroft looked that the lines in Greg’s face shift as he thought. He thought Greg looked like something out of a story – powerful but kind, and glowing with magic.

When Greg opened his eyes three-fourths of the room was covered in a starlight night sky. He looked at Mycroft grinning, who was beaming back at him proudly. Mycroft was in complete awe of the younger wizard - for all Greg seemed to be ordinary on the surface, the more he got to know him, the more he fell in love with the will and the power Greg carried.

Greg spent a few minutes admiring his handy work before extending out his hand, “Myc can you come here? I want to try something." Mycroft nodded standing up from the bench to take Greg's hand. "Anything," he murmured, as he noticed that Greg's stars shone so brightly they reflected his eyes and Mycroft's breath was momentarily taken away. Greg pulled Mycroft close and whispered in his ear, “Mind closing your eyes?” Mycroft nodded, and shut his eyes, trusting Greg.

Greg backed away for a moment and placed a tiny radio on the table. He took a deep breath before flicking his wand. Music began to pour from it as he approached Mycroft, taking his hand gently, and asking, "May I have this dance?"

Mycroft's eyes fluttered open and he gasped lightly before nodding, stepping in closer to Greg. This was magical, in the purest sense of the word Mycroft thought as Greg led him around in a small circle, not knowing how to properly dance. Mycroft let himself forget all the formal dancing lessons, letting Greg lead and resting his head on his shoulder. "Thank you for today Myc, it was unforgettable," he whispered into the older boy’s ear.

"It was my honour," he responded. "You are something so very special, Gregory. You deserve nothing but the best." Mycroft let himself get wrapped up in the song even though he didn’t know it. All he knew is that the man crooning on the radio was talking about stars, kissing and love. As the song ended Greg placed a tender kiss on Mycroft’s mouth.

Mycroft returned the kiss, eyes closed as he felt Greg lean towards him. Greg hoped his display would garner a favourable answer as he quietly asked Mycroft, “Are we dating, officially I mean? Can I tell people that you’re my boyfriend?”

Mycroft pulled back stunned. He examined Greg’s face for a hint of sarcasm or humour, but there was none. “You want to tell people what?” he asked still in shock.

Greg looked at the ground, “I thought if someone asked I could tell them I was your boyfriend, but it was a stupid idea. Why would you want me telling people that?” Greg said, chastising himself.

Mycroft sputtered, “No! Please, that is not what I meant! Of course you could tell people we were together.” Mycroft was certain his face had never felt hotter.

“Really?!” Greg replied in disbelief to which Mycroft nodded his head. Greg's heart started to race and the next thing he knew he was grabbing Mycroft’s hand, incoherently saying, "Follow me" before quickly running towards the exit. Greg ran through the school corridors until he stopped when he saw the door he was looking for and opened it pulling Mycroft in and shutting the door. 


	11. Room of Requirement

Mycroft knew where they were; he had discovered this room in his third year. But it looked different now, like...like the compartment they had first shared Gregory's sky charm in. He glanced at Greg, eyes wide. "Didn't think it was going to give me this,” Greg said, running his hand through his hair, “but it was the first place I wanted to properly snog you so I guess the room is very bloody perceptive." Greg looked at Mycroft like a kid whose hand was found in the cookie jar.

Mycroft's eyes widened, but he only nodded, stepping close to him. "Maybe now I have the chance to give you what you wanted then." He leaned down to kiss Greg, gentle at first, but growing with passion. Greg melted into the kiss and soon found himself backing him and Mycroft into the train’s bench. Mycroft felt the bench behind his knees, and fell back on it heavily, staring up at Greg and breathing heavily.

Greg looked around nervously, "I uh don't know where to sit..." Mycroft grinned deviously and pulled Greg on top of him, kissing him soundly. "I've never done any of this before," he confided. "But I do know I want you close to me right now and I don't want to let my boyfriend go just yet."

Greg felt his heart race, "Me neither Myc. This might sound silly but I knew in this train compartment you were someone amazing"

Mycroft's heart swelled, and he looked at Greg as if reading his heart like a book before kissing him, passionately, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other tangled his hair. Greg found one hand grabbing Mycroft's neck and the other in between the button holes of his shirt.

Mycroft could feel Greg's fingers on his skin, and he bit back a sound building in his throat. He was nervous, Greg would probably want to see underneath his clothing, and it was bad enough he was out of a suit and robes for the day.

Mycroft let his hand on Gregory's waist creep upwards, under the fabric and dared to touch the toned skin beneath. A shiver ran through Greg's spine and as he felt goose bumps rising on his flesh and couldn’t help but nip at Mycroft's bottom lip in response.

Greg removed his jumper to give Mycroft better access and Mycroft felt his pulse racing as he brought his hands up, hesitantly moving to undo some of Greg's shirt buttons. His hands were shaking, he noticed distantly. Nerves, and adrenaline.

Greg noticed Mycroft's hands shaking and took hold of them. “Please don’t be nervous Myc. If anything I should be. I’m being undressed by an older bloke,” he said kissing Mycroft’s hands.

Mycroft felt his nerves settle a bit but panicked once he realized Greg expected him to know what to do. “Greg, age doesn’t mean much. I really have no idea what I’m doing.”

Greg breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh thank Godric. I was thinking I was going to be a bumbling idiot…” Greg grinned and nodded to have Mycroft keep undoing the rest of Greg's shirt. Finally all the buttons were undone and the shirt slid off. "Stunning," Mycroft murmured, feeling Greg's Quidditch-toned body under his fingers. Greg turned bright red, suddenly very aware that he was shirtless in front of Mycroft

Mycroft pulled him close and kissed him. "Do not be embarrassed Gregory, you are gorgeous," he murmured, brushing his fingers over his skin. "Perfect, my love, as in everything else."

Though he could feel some confidence building, it occurred to Mycroft that he really was afraid to remove his own clothes - he couldn't even begin to measure up. He was pale, ginger, freckled, and didn’t have an ounce of muscle tone. To top it off, he had yet to get rid of his stomach despite the diet.

The pair continued to snog on the bench. Mycroft allowing his hands roam the tanned planes of Greg’s chest and back, and Greg revelling in the touch. He was certain it was a very good dream and soon he would wake up in a sticky bed if he opened his eyes.

After a few moments, Greg took a deep breath and steadied himself. "Myc, can I undo your shirt...I want to see you too if you don’t mind." Mycroft froze. Greg wanted to see him shirtless. He had to avoid it. If his clothes came off even a bit the illusion would be ruined, and Greg would be disgusted.

Mycroft swallowed hard and shook his head, “I would rather not if you do not mind.” Greg pulled back and stared at his boyfriend, “Oh…umm of course.” He didn’t know what he was thinking. Of course Mycroft wouldn’t want to undress in front of him. Greg wasn’t anyone.

Mycroft saw the dejected look on his boyfriend’s face and deduced that he thought he had done something to have Mycroft reject him. “Gregory, you have not done anything to warrant my negation of your advances, I am just nothing special to look at. Rather the opposite of you…”

Greg frowned at the explanation and looked Mycroft straight in the eye saying, “What are you going on about? You are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen, and never think differently." Mycroft flushed, and nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. His long fingers danced across Greg's chest as he met his look, nodding to give his assent. Greg took a deep breath and began to undo Mycroft's shirt, revealing his near porcelain like skin beneath

Mycroft was tense, eyes shut with nerves. He knew what Greg had said, but still, what if... He bit his bottom lip, searching Greg's face.

"Merlin, Mycroft this is better than in my dreams," Greg gasped reverently. Mycroft chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. "Been dreaming about me, then?” he murmured against his lips. “To be fair, I've dreamt of this too," he admitted. "I can hardly believe this is real."

"This is very real Myc," Greg purred as he pushed them both down to a lying position. Mycroft shivered at the feeling of Greg on top of him. He looked up at him adoringly and teased, "I’m still not convinced of this reality."

Greg took that as a challenge and resumed his ministrations on Mycroft's mouth shifting his trousers so as to not make Mycroft aware of his excitement. Mycroft did notice the adjustment however, and felt his nerves skyrocket. He wanted this, he did. He kissed Greg back, certain the younger boy must be able, to feel his own erection between them.

Greg pulled back for a second, and averted his eyes. "Uh I'm sorry," Greg said looking away. “I'm just nervous,” he murmured and searched Mycroft’s eyes for signs as to where to go. Mycroft smiled encouragingly. "I’m nervous too, I promise. Either of us has the option to say stop.”

Greg grinned at the encouragement and pushed down on Mycroft's trousers, placing kisses along his neck. Mycroft tilted head back, enjoying the sensation. These benches were wider and more comfortable than the ones on the actual train, and Mycroft could feel Greg, so close to where his body wanted him.

Greg decided to move up to Mycroft's ear, nibbling and whispered "You are very sexy Myc. I’m having a bit of a time controlling myself." Mycroft very nearly whimpered at the compliment, leaning up to nip at Greg's Adams apple in response.

Greg tried to hold back a groan but he couldn't, and Mycroft smiled, repeating the action, hoping for a similar reaction – it did. Mycroft’s fingers traced patterns into Greg's skin giving his boyfriend his fullest attention. Everything in his mind was on Greg and Greg alone.

Greg began breathing heavily, feeling Mycroft's hands all over him. He decided to grind into Mycroft's hips, hoping for a positive response. Mycroft gasped lightly, hips lifting to gain more friction. He was breathing in heady gasps, desperate for everything Greg would give him.

Greg continued to move against Mycroft, desperate to hear the man moan. He bent his head slightly, giving his left nipple a tentative lick, hoping that would do the trick. Mycroft's head fell back, a throaty moan escaping his lips - “Oh, merlin.”

"I'd quite prefer it if my name was on your lips," Greg said as he rub down again against him kissing. "Oh- Gregory," his voice was a breathy whisper. "Gregory!" his voice rose a bit. Greg smiled. He never thought Mycroft Holmes would be shirtless in front of him let alone gasping his name. "Myc, you mind if we switch? I'd like a better view of you.”

Mycroft nodded breathlessly, helping Greg to switch their positions around. He couldn’t believe this was happening, Greg really wanted him, wanted to see him. Once Mycroft was straddled on top of him, Greg leaned up to kiss him, cupping Mycroft’s cheek in his hand.

Mycroft smiled into the kiss. He rolled his hips experimentally, trying to imitate what Greg had done before, while latching onto Greg's pulse, kissing and biting gently.

"Oh Myc, please do that again" Greg said baring his neck in encouragement. Mycroft repeated his actions with more confidence, pleasure shooting up his spine as they touched through their trousers. "Oh, holy Merlin, Greg," he gasped.

"Myc if you keep going I’m going to..." Greg moved his eyes in embarrassment Mycroft placed two fingers under Greg's chin, tilting his head to look at him. "That's fine. It's all fine. Just let go." He rolled his hips again, harder, looking intensely into Greg’s eyes.

Greg concentrated on the next few rolls of Mycroft's hips and let out a whimpering release, "Oh, Myc, Myc..." Mycroft felt heady, hearing his name coming from this incredible man. "Greg," he gasped out, eyes closing momentarily before opening again and focusing on him.

Greg collapsed onto the bench, his head fuzzy from his release, gasping for breath when Mycroft collapsed over him, panting. "Merlin, Greg," he murmured, overwhelmed.

Greg ran his hands through Mycroft's hair and down his back. "You are so beautiful Myc,” he whispered, “it’s like a dream I never want to wake up from." Mycroft smiled softly, curling into Greg's touch. "You're my own personal miracle," he murmured sleepily.

The pair laid tangled for a few silent moments before Greg took a deep breath and decided he should venture asking. "Can we stay in here for the night...?"

Mycroft smiled into Greg’s chest, “Please,” he agreed. "I don't want to leave now. I don't ever want to leave this place actually.” Greg chuckled, "Unfortunately I don't have a time turner to extend the night but I'll stay with you for as long as time allows...even after our time in here." Greg found his wand on the floor and conjured a tiny night sky in the compartment. "The sun will wake us up in the morning. Sleep Myc."


	12. Here In Your Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys wake up after their night in the room of requirement

The sun of Greg’s charm beamed down on the couple the next morning. Greg slowly stirred, but despite the warmth on his face he tried to keep sleeping. He didn't want to wake up. If he did his dream of sleeping with Mycroft would end, and he wasn't ready for that dream to go away. He closed his eyes and turned into Mycroft who was beginning to gradually waken.

Mycroft opened his eyes and watched the sunlight play off Greg’s hair and smiled as memories of last night came back. “Good morning Gregory,” he said sleepily. After a few moments Greg finally opened his eyes, “I was afraid last night was a dream and I wasn’t quite ready for it to end.” Mycroft rolled closer to Greg, “Mm, not a dream, definitely not. Infinitely better actually because we get to wake up together,” he said lazily before kissing him.

Greg smiled as Mycroft pulled back from the kiss, “I like the way your freckles look in the sunlight love.” Mycroft blushed. He’d always hated his freckles but somehow the compliment coming from Greg made it alright.

"We should probably head back to our dorms though to change..." Greg said turning red. Mycroft flushed, suddenly noticing how sticky they both were in their pants. "Yes, indeed," he said sheepishly. Suddenly, though, the room provided fresh robes causing Mycroft to chuckle in relief. "That is definitely handy for running back to the dorms, considering I've got to get my supplies for class," Greg laughed, pulling on the robe.

Mycroft stood up and began to get dressed himself when Greg pulled him in for a kiss, “"I'll see you later. I’ve got to run." Mycroft kissed him back happily, before letting him go. "Have a good class," he called as he waved him off.

Greg passed through the corridors with ease, hoping to not run into anyone wearing the same clothes as last night – the day wear for his date stood out much more than day old uniform. He made it to the Gryffindor common room without running into a soul. He thought he has escaped any embarrassment until he walked into his dormitory to see John Watson sitting on his bed, packing his bag for the day. John whirled around and Greg looked like a deer caught in headlights.

John raised an eyebrow at him once he caught sight of his jumper still on Greg. "I take it the date went well then," he teased. "You didn't come back last night. How was he?" Greg stammered and did not help the situation by turning bright red. "We uh, we didn't you know...we didn't do that."

John chuckled. "Why the hell not? What did you do all night?" He looked Greg up and down. "You look a right sight," he teased.

Greg told him about the test flight with the new brooms and the dinner down in Diagon Alley. He told him how easy it was to fill the Great Hall now and that he actually got Mycroft to dance with him. "And then he said he was my boyfriend. I couldn't control myself, I dragged him to the room of requirement we found last year, and spent the night snogging him in there. John, he is gorgeous underneath all those damn layers, I thought I was in a dream. I didn't want to bloody wake up this morning."

John was grinning at him. "You are totally infatuated. I mean, he sounds amazing, but you've got it bad, mate. Good on you." He couldn't help but think of Sherlock, but he brushed it away reminding himself - not gay.

"Yeah I've got it bad but I'm alright with that." Greg began to change into his uniform, "So John, the Yule Ball is only a few weeks away. Asking anyone to go with you?"

John dropped the rolls of parchment he was placing into his bag, "Oh, uh, I hadn't thought about it," John lied, ears turning red.

"John Watson you are a liar," Greg stated pointing at John's ears. "So come on. Who is she?"

"Well," he shuffled his feet, "I was thinking... Well of course there's no chance, and I wouldn't say anything... It's not important. I'll just go stag" he mumbled. "Just go for it mate,” Greg said nudging his shoulder, “Worst they can say is no. Anyone I know? "

"Sort of," John muttered. "And it's not that simple," he explained as he rubbed the back of his neck. Greg knew, of course, that John was talking about Sherlock but he wasn't about to drag it out of John and embarrass him. "I'm going to head to class. I'll see you there?" John breathed out in relief. "Yeah, I'll be there in a few."

He hurriedly threw his school robes on, gathering his books, and made a mental note to talk to Mycroft about his brother. Those two men were so stubborn that neither was going to make the first move without prompting.

***

Mycroft on the other side of the school made it unnoticed to the Head Boy dorm (through the use of a disillusionment charm), and changed quickly into school robes before going to, class and happily distracted by thoughts of Gregory all period.

He spent his time, wisely of course, looking through a robe catalogue, finding something for Greg. He knew Greg couldn't afford something, and he wanted it to be an anonymous gift. Finally he selected something, sending the order by owl, to arrive within the next two days.

***

Greg spent his period writing to his sister about Mycroft. He told her all about the date and the dinner, and his fears of not being enough for this boy who for all intents and purposes runs more of Hogwarts than he lets on. He left out the part of the sleepover in the train compartment but did tell Eloise that he was falling in love. He told her about the dancing, and he figured she would find it funny that his song of choice was "Fly Me To the Moon" and explained to her that most wizards don't know music from the outside world. He asked for an update on Mum and Da, and explained to her that he took on some extra shifts to have a bit of money for dress robes.

Once class was dismissed Greg went to the Great Hall for lunch and spotted Anthea sitting alone. He steeled himself and decided to approach her. "Hello there, Anthea right?"

Anthea looked up briefly before resuming her reading. “I know you don't talk much, and you might not like me, but can you please get this note to Myc when you have a chance, it would mean a lot to me and probably him." She simply eyed him before snatching the note from his hand, and looked back down at her book. Greg walked off, hoping for the best, and once he was out of the room Anthea smirked, putting the note in her pocket.

Mycroft walked into the great hall a few minutes later than usual because he popped by the owlry to send off the robe order. He slid in next to Anthea and grabbed an apple from the tray. “Hello dear" he greeted more cheerily than usual. She tilted her head in greeting and handed the letter to Mycroft.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, taking it and opening it. "Gregory, I take it," he smiled fondly. Anthea nodded, "He wants to know when he can see you again, and something about Sherlock."

Mycroft scanned the note quickly, tucking it into his pocket with a nod. He quickly scribbled a reply onto a piece of parchment, sending it off with his owl. 

Dearest Gregory, Prefect meeting tonight at 6. Stay after? We can return to the room of requirement and talk. I agree Sherlock and John need a push. MH


	13. The Prefect's Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simply a prefect meeting

Greg walked over to the prefect meeting later on that night with Molly Hooper, his fellow Gryffindor prefect. She was going on about her dress for the Yule ball and how she was having an internal debate because she had already been asked by two boys - Mike in Hufflepuff and a younger boy named James in Slytherin and she couldn't decide who to go with.

Just as Molly had gotten so far into thought that she was subconsciously twisting her hair, Mycroft appeared out of nowhere saying, "Careful of James Moriarty, Miss Hooper, he is not as benign as he seems." He had been watching the boy for some time – his magic was simply off. As Mycroft ushered them inside, he brushed Greg’s neck with his hand, and gave him a warm smile.

Mycroft walked up to the front of the room to begin the meeting discussing the final details for the Yule Ball. “Miss Hooper and Mister Knight, you two will be responsible for coordinating the band and transfiguring and charming the dance floor – do not let it be a repeat of last Yule Ball where Fred Weasley II thought it would be funny to enchant certain panels on the floor to freeze you or worse,” he said with an eye roll. “Miss Yao and Riley, I need you to outreach to the student group who want to contribute to the ball either by decoration assistance or day off preparation. Target specifically the transfiguration club, as they get so creative with the napkins.” Mycroft scanned down his list “Each of the following, Miss Adler, Mister Frankland, Mister Wilkes and Anthea here will be responsible for coordinating the dancing lessons held by each house. Miss Adler if you would be so kind as to take Hufflepuff while Anthea you take Gryffindor that would be lovely.” He cleared his throat, “finally I shall be finalizing the menu and Mister Lestrade has been contracted to enchant the ceiling for the night.” 

Greg loved watching the way Mycroft could command a room. Once things were settled and debated, everyone departed for dinner, except Greg who hung back to talk to Mycroft. Greg approached Mycroft placing an innocent kiss on his cheek. "Missed you." Mycroft kissed him chastely, “I missed you too. Anthea informed me you wanted to discuss John and Sherlock?”

Greg nodded and told Mycroft about the exchange with John this morning and his deduction that John had Sherlock in mind when talking about a date. "I mean I know John probably just started coming to terms with his feelings, but I knew John had something for Sherlock since the first day of charms class – John shot a rock at Anderson for threatening Sherlock."

Mycroft chuckled, "My brother insists that sentiment is, as he puts it, 'a chemical defect found in the losing side'. However, I do wonder how long he can deny that he feels rather strongly for John. They are both far too stubborn for their own good."

"We should just spike one of their drinks with a mild love potion." Greg said jokingly.

Greg lifted his arms in the air, stretching, "I'm working a double shift tonight Myc so I'm going to head out. No room of requirement tonight unfortunately,” he said with a groan. “Need me to bring any food orders to the house elves in the kitchen for the ball?"

Mycroft nodded, handing him the list that had been compiled during the meeting. "Much appreciated, Gregory, love." He kissed him goodbye, wondering if Greg would mind a visitor in the kitchens. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its a short update but the next chapter has a bit of drama - Greg doesn't like people in his kitchen *spoiler*
> 
> Thanks for reading! All of the comments and feedback I've gotten are lovely! It truly keeps me going. 
> 
> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr/Twitter) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)
> 
> Also I'm looking for a beta for my next Mystrade fic. If interested drop me a line through here, Tumblr, or Twitter :)


	14. The Kitchen Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft goes into the kitchen to visit Greg, and his reaction was not what Mycroft expected.

After almost five years of working in the kitchen Greg had picked up a few tricks.  It wasn't quite like cooking at home, because cooking with magic was distinctly different, but the basic principles still held. Due to Greg’s background – his family ran the town bakery – he was in charge of creating the recipes the house elves followed when they got a special request in. Greg's task for tonight was to make a batch of dark blue Swiss rolls for the Yule Ball that the house elves could recreate.

Greg didn’t mind his work in the kitchens. It cleared his mind and it gave him a sense of normalcy. He never felt quite out of place as a muggleborn at Hogwarts, but he liked reminding himself where it was he came from, and that simple household tasks, like cooking, took care and effort without magic to assist you.

But as much as Greg didn’t mind his job – it was his means of attending Hogwarts – he didn’t advertise that he milled around in the kitchens. He knew most of the students would either treat him different or pity him. Some of the meaner ones would tease him relentlessly, and he just wanted to avoid it.

***

Over in the Great Hall, Mycroft sat and ate with Anthea following their evening meeting. He realized as he approached dessert that he had no plans for the evening, and thought it would be a good idea to surprise his boyfriend in the kitchens. He strolled there casually, tickled the pear on the portrait and walked inside, greeting the house elves.  

Greg was engrossed in the recipe for Swiss rolls. He had the cream filling whipping itself on one end of the table and was currently working on enchanting the chocolate cake batter to appear blue while still tasting like chocolate. He had four separate bowls laid out, trying different combinations of spells, and a fifth bowl was laid by what appeared to be a well loved cookbook. Greg himself was covered in flour and his apron was splattered with an assortment of colours and ingredients.

Mycroft sat back, watching Greg in his element. He turned down all offers of food the elves had brought him with kind thanks, content to simply observe. This was obviously something Gregory enjoyed, and was good at.

Once Greg had the four magical bowls whisking themselves, he turned to the fifth bowl on the other table, by the cookbook. The batter on the table was different – it was from scratch. He was making a vanilla cake batter, which could easily be dyed, and he was planning on making the cream for his batch chocolate flavoured. He was about to use his wand to call over a whisk, but was startled when someone handed it to him instead

Mycroft smiled at Greg as he handed the utensil over. "You seem to know what you're doing in here. I'm afraid I've always been hopeless in a kitchen,” he despaired and moved a step closer to his boyfriend

Greg look startled, "Uh Myc what are you doing in here..." he mumbled as he took a step back.

Mycroft shrugged, "I hope you do not mind. I was curious. I do not visit the kitchens often, and I wanted to see what you do here."

Greg looked back down at his recipe, "Myc...you really shouldn't be in here..." Greg muttered as he continued working on the muggle version of the recipe, not making eye contact with Mycroft.

"Nonsense, students come here all the time," Mycroft shrugged. "But I will not distract you from your work. I merely wished to greet you, and see for myself what your work is like." He could tell when he was not wanted. "I'll see you around Mycroft..." Greg continued to busy himself with his work, and hoped Mycroft wouldn't linger around much longer. The situation was embarrassing enough as it was. Mycroft sighed. "Yes. I am sorry to have bothered you." He left, trying to seem casual at the dismissal. Why did Gregory want him gone so badly?

As soon as he heard the painting door close, Greg let his composure crumble. Why had Mycroft come down here? It’s one thing to know your boyfriend is working in the kitchens trying to get by at this school, it’s another to see it first hand. What the hell was Mycroft going to want with him once the novelty wore off? He didn't have much to give him. Greg was so angry at himself he punched the wall, not bother to use magic to repair the broken skin.

***

Mycroft sat in the Great Hall, trying to think. Why was Gregory angry? His first thought was that he was simply embarrassed, but that was ridiculous. He must know Mycroft loved Gregory, that the financial situation was not something he would judge him on. Still, he could think of no other explanation. He shook his head sadly, and turned around, returning to the kitchens. He didn't want to walk away when Gregory was upset; he knew enough to know it should be fixed quickly.

Greg placed the five recipes in the oven, hoping the test batches came out alright. The house elves loved it when Greg had to experiment with complicated recipes because they always got first tries on the results. Greg sat along the back wall of the kitchen writing out his Defence Against the Dark Arts essay because he was having no luck practicing his transfiguration homework when he was this worked up.

Mycroft entered silently, hesitating now that he was there. What should he say? "Gregory," he said, to catch his attention. "I apologize if I am disturbing you again, but I wanted to return, to understand why you are upset with me for coming here. I am not very good at these things, and I do not know what I have done wrong."

Greg took a deep breath, trying not to lose himself in front of Mycroft. "Mycroft, please go. You didn't do anything wrong alright?"

“If I did not do anything wrong why are you acting this way?” Mycroft challenged. "I am merely trying to see better what you do. You must know I am not here to judge you, and if that is what you are thinking, then I obviously have not done my job properly. I love you, Gregory; is it so wrong that I might take an interest in your life?"

Greg whirled around trying to explain himself without raising his voice. "What are you going to do next year when you go to the Ministry? You can't possibly think it would be a good idea to bring me around! How are you going to explain to people the bit of rough you have that works in the school kitchen?" Greg couldn't look Mycroft in the eye, "If you never came down were I would have been fine, you wouldn't have an image of me working, but now...Mycroft the novelty will wear off eventually..."

Mycroft was shocked. "Gregory, I-" Did he really believe that that was all he was? "Gregory, listen to me," he said sternly. "You are not just 'a bit of rough,'" he said, somewhat angrily. "All I have an image of, Gregory, is you experimenting with a task you obviously enjoy and have a skill for. I do not care that you need the money; I do not care about any of that! You are not just some novelty!" he spat. "You are- Gregory, you are the only person I have ever cared about like this. I love you. Why can you not believe that?"

"I just can't wrap my head around it...you cannot be in love with a boy like me," Greg said cradling his hand; it was still smarting from the punch to the wall. He still couldn't look Mycroft in the eye. Mycroft caught the movement, and pulling his wand out, he inspected the broken skin and murmured the spell to heal it.

"Gregory, my love," he placed a finger under Greg's chin, meeting his eyes. "I love you. This,” he said gesturing to the kitchen, “does not change anything, I just want to know you better. Let me in, darling. I swear, I won't leave you. Not ever."

Greg finally looked Mycroft in the eye and could feel the sincerity in his words. "I'm sorry Myc, I just feel out of my league with you. I know you care for me but I can't give you prototype brooms or even dinner just yet." Greg held out his hand in a pausing gesture and walked off to the ovens. Mycroft was terrified when Greg walked away. Was that it? Was Greg too uncomfortable with the class difference?

Greg waved his wand, and he laid out the five batches of Swiss rolls, mumbling a spell to cool them down. Greg walked back with one type of each on a plate, and let the nearest house elf know the rest were up for review. Mycroft only began breathing again, when Greg walked back with a plate of rolls. “So I may not be able to give you dinner at a nice restaurant, but you can have first taste of the Yule Ball menu." It was Greg way of saying he was willing to give them a try.

"Thank you, Gregory," he said sincerely. "Anything you do is enough. I do not need brooms, or dinners, just your company. You made this yourself, and that makes them infinitely more precious than anything you could buy with money." Greg couldn’t help but blush at the compliment. "Let me know which combination you think is best" Greg said anxiously. He handed a fork to Mycroft and kept one for himself so they could sample the desserts

Mycroft sampled each. They were all fantastic, but the third was most likely his favourite – the one made from the cookbook recipe. He told Greg so, praising his desserts to high heaven. "You're incredible, Gregory," he said sincerely. "Thanks. Once the rest of the elves let me know I'll put the final order in."

Mycroft smiled. "Are we alright?" he asked hesitantly. Greg held out another piece of roll for Mycroft to eat, "More than alright.”

The pair ate in silence for a bit, until Greg, replaying the conversation in his head asked, “Did you say you loved me?”

Mycroft look Greg in the eye and nodded, “Yes, I did say that. I am quite in love with you Gregory.”

Greg leaned in a kissed Mycroft, licking a bit of chocolate from his lips, and pulled back whispering, “That is handy because I love you too.” Mycroft pulled him back into a kiss and only let go when Greg pulled back to say, “I have to be in here for a few more hours, you could stay if you like?” Mycroft smiled widely, "Thank you, Gregory," he said, settling in. "Can I help with anything?"

“You can give me a second set of eyes for the ice sculptures. Got to make quite a few before the ball and yours truly is better at the no-melting charm than the house elves so I was tasked with the job.” Mycroft nodded, “Are not you the talented wizard? What is the theme?”

“I was actually going to use different representations of astrological signs, like the ones I showed you that time in the train, in keeping with the night sky motif. What do you think?” Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded, “That sounds wonderful,” he uttered, smiling at the memory. “Do you think however, you could throw in some subtle prods at John and Sherlock?" he asked impishly, "Some reference that would seem innocent to everyone else, but give them little reminders of their relationship all night?"

Greg replied laughing, "I don't know how to sculpt sulking Myc.” Mycroft guffawed and once composed said, “No, just...little things, hidden in the sculpture, from their escapades, to keep my brother thinking.”

"I see where you are going and I’ll see what I can do,” Greg supposed with a shrug.

Greg got to working on the sculptures, inserting random hints at the bases. A skull at the base of the archer’s foot, a hound beside the Virgo maiden, and some chemical flasks by the river with Aries. "Myc, these will be clues enough for Sherlock, but John isn't as observant as your brother."

No, but it is Sherlock who will need more prodding, I think. If he can be convinced to make a move, John will certainly not argue." all the same, Mycroft did think they needed something for John. "Perhaps there is a song, a muggle song, John would relate to?"

“Perhaps, I'll talk to him about music and see what I can get," Greg replied, setting the charm on the third sculpture. "I'm done for the night.” Mycroft beamed widely. "Brilliant. Do you want me to walk you back?" He wanted to spend more time with Greg, but he had to be exhausted, after the long hours.

"Sure, but I can probably stay out for a bit longer.” Mycroft smiled. "Good. Room of requirement?" he asked, blushing. "Just to talk, if you like, of course…,” he trailed off, ears going red. "Myc if I didn't know better I'd think you were up to no good."

Mycroft blushed, but laughed. "Oh, you got me," he chuckled, "The game is up!" Greg chortled at the humour coming out of this boyfriend and simply winked and replied, “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Every kudo, comment, and reblog truly keeps me going.
> 
> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr/Twitter) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)
> 
> I'm looking to practice my writing so if you have a drabble or short fic you'd like let me know in my Tumblr ask box


	15. Room of Requirement Round 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their tiff and make up baking in the kitchen the boys head to the room of requirement for a "chat"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We definitely made up cheesy wizarding curse words...sorry not sorry

Mycroft led the way to the Room of Requirement, nerves pooling but not as quickly as his excitement. Greg held Mycroft’s hand as they walked to the room, excited to see what form the room was going to take this time around.

The room was far from what Mycroft had expected, but he supposed it did give you what you needed. It was the space he retreated to at the mansion when he needed to gather and steel himself to face the politics again. It was his safe place, and he supposed it was only fitting to share it with Greg. It didn't look like anything special, a room with cream walls, a desk and a bookshelf, a cot in the corner, a far cry from his plush bed in his personal room in the manor, but somehow more comfortable and welcoming because of its simplicity. On the desk were images, precious photos recreated from memories – one of his brother as a child, himself and Gregory when they kissed and when they danced. His favourite childhood book was well worn and kept on the desk. Mycroft's eyes widened in surprise as he took it all in, before smiling; yes, this was something he wanted to share with Greg.

Greg walked through the space, glancing at the books on the shelf until his eyes settled on the desk. The photo of Sherlock was of a scowling pirate running around with a fake sword. As his eyes continued to scan he saw the photos of him and Mycroft and he couldn't help but wish he could take these photos with him. Mycroft saw the look in his boyfriend’s eyes and pulled out his wand to duplicate the photos. "Take one," he offered, seeing where Greg was looking. Greg placed the photos in his robes with a smile.

"I have to admit, this is...unexpected. It is a room from the manor, one I use when I need to escape for a while. Like a sanctuary. I am glad to show you it though...despite it not being a pleasant element of my home life." Greg frowned - he knew Mycroft was often stressed out by why his family expected of him and that his parents weren't exactly the warm and fuzzy type but it broke his heart to know that Mycroft felt the need to escape.

Mycroft sat on the simple bed, watching Gregory. He felt automatically more relaxed, by the room and the presence of his boyfriend and after a few minutes stepped behind Greg and wrapped him in a hug from behind. Leaning back into Mycroft's hug Greg purred, "So Myc, you wanted to talk?"

"Hmm, something like that," Mycroft hummed, kissing his cheek from behind. He walked backwards, still hugging Greg, and sat on the bed, pulling Greg with him. "You are fantastic, did you know?" he asked contentedly. Greg placed a chaste kiss on Mycroft's lips, "I was vaguely aware." Mycroft smiled, "Just brilliant," he said leaning in for a kiss of his own. "I do not even know what I wanted to talk about. I just wanted to be with you, alone."

Greg lay down on the bed, and pulled Mycroft down next to him. "So tell me about the book on the desk. I can see it’s a kid’s book but I've never read it before."

"It's a wizard story," he explained. "A bit of nonsense, really, but one of my favourites when I was young. I have never been able to bring myself to get rid of it. It was about a creature that appeared to a man with a hundred blue spots on its face. Each spot was a wish, and each wish went rather comically wrong until the man realized that there were no more spots left…and all he was left with was a friend, because the creature stayed, and he decided after all the mishaps that his friendship was enough." Greg laughed, “That’s sweet actually. I've never heard any wizard children's stories; maybe you can read it to me sometimes.”

He looked around again, “Myc, why is Sherlock a pirate in the photo?" Mycroft chuckled, "He always wanted to be a pirate, when he was young. Would not accept anything different. It was so like Sherlock to choose his own way even back then. He was convinced he could enchant a boat to fly like in Peter Pan and have his own wizarding pirate crew.”

Greg laid there content in Mycroft's arms, "Did you want to be anything ridiculous when you were young?" Mycroft shrugged. "I wanted to own a bakery, when I was seven," he chuckled, "But I always knew I would end up in politics." Greg smiled, "Well next time you visit the kitchen I'll show you how to bake something." Mycroft chuckled, "Oh, no. The house elves at the manor tried to teach me once, and the stove legitimately exploded. Greg snickered, "Well good thing I wasn't planning on letting you use magic" Mycroft grinned sheepishly. "If you're sure you want to try, but I warn you, I'm hopeless."

"I doubt that very much," Greg said as he gently kissed Mycroft. Mycroft kissed him back, leaning into Greg's comforting presence. Making the kiss a bit more forceful, Greg licked to get Mycroft to open his mouth before saying, "I know you didn't just come in here to talk, Myc." Mycroft obeyed the unspoken command, lips parting, for Greg. "Not exactly. But the talking was good," he murmured back.

"So what did you have in mind when you brought me here love?" Mycroft rolled so he knelt above Greg, and he kissed him deeply, "Something, like that." Greg let out a soft moan below him, "Ah, I see."

Mycroft pressed a line of kisses across Greg's jaw and down his neck, leaving a mark experimentally on his collarbone. Greg arched into the touch, exposing his neck to give his boyfriend more access. Mycroft took the hint and undid the first few buttons of Greg's shirt to reveal more skin, and began to greedily leave his mark on the smooth flesh there.

As Mycroft continued his ministrations, Greg undid the rest of his shirt for him and let it fall off while Mycroft quickly struggled out of his own shirt.

Once free, Mycroft bent down to kiss a trail down Greg's stomach but hesitated when he reached his belt. Were they ready for this?

"Gregory," he murmured, "I want..." he didn't finish the sentence. He wanted to try him, to taste him, bring him to the edge and then some, but he wasn't sure if he was brave enough to ask let alone do it.

Greg looked up and say Mycroft down by his waist, "What do you want love? Tell me..."

Mycroft inhaled deeply and whispered, “I want to taste you," he blushed hard, not quite meeting Greg's eyes. Greg's breath caught in his throat. He felt so out of his depth - this gorgeous man wanted to go down on him, it was unbelievable. "I, uh...," Greg tried to form words but instead turned bright red. Mycroft blushed even more. "Not good?" he asked timidly, unsure of himself. Greg tried to string words together once more, "No, it-it’s fine...I just didn't think, didn't know you'd wa-want to do that with me..."

Mycroft steeled his nerves, a hand resting over Greg's belt buckle. He slowly slid it open, not quite meeting Greg's eyes as he removed the belt and undid his fly. Greg continued to look down the bed at Mycroft in complete disbelief at the scene before him. He had begun to get an erection when they were snogging but now he was fully hard beneath his pants.

Mycroft could feel Greg's straining erection, and felt more confident. He pulled his trousers and pants away, revealing Greg's shaft, thick and hard. He swallowed, licking his lips subconsciously before bending his head, tongue flicking out to test the musky but not unpleasant taste of Greg, which caused the Gryffindor to buck his hips at the contact, moaning at the light touch of Mycroft's tongue on his head.

Mycroft jerked back a bit in surprise, no expecting that reaction. He lowered himself down again, tentatively lick a stripe from base to tip, wrapping his tongue around Greg and trying to create friction. He watched Greg's reactions, wanting to figure out what he liked best and was rewarded with a groan. Soon Greg’s hand was in Mycroft’s hair, and he was gasping the ginger’s name. Mycroft pulled back, parting his lips to take Gregory in as far as he could. He had never done it before, and so he couldn't get too far before he gagged. He was determined to get better at it, and for now settled with using his hand on what he couldn't take.

Greg felt the heat of Mycroft's mouth envelope his prick, “Godric, Myc that feels...oh, I don't think I can last long if you keep it up." Greg's head sank back on the bed, eyes closed, taking in the sensation of Mycroft's tongue.Mycroft shivered, as Greg's words affecting him more than he cared to admit. He bobbed his head, careful of his teeth and tried to run his tongue along the underside of Greg's cock. He was adjusting to the sensation and took him in a bit deeper.

Greg felt the heat building up at the pit of his stomach and his vision began to blur at the edges "Myc, I'm going to come," he said in warning. Mycroft debated for a moment, before deciding to try to swallow. He wanted to do this properly. He swallowed around Greg, cheeks hollowing as he sucked, hard.

Greg tried to tug Mycroft’s hair as warning but felt the tension begin releasing as he felt Mycroft suck harder. His whole body tensed before orgasming into Mycroft's mouth, who struggled to swallow it all. Eventually he was forced to pull back, wiping himself off with a cloth the room provided at the foot of the bed.

"Merlin, Greg," he murmured, eyes hooded.Greg stared down in disbelief. He had just been blown by Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft Bloody Holmes. He was certain it was a dream, so just to make certain, Greg leaned forward and pulled Mycroft towards him and began to assault his mouth. Greg liked the way he tasted in Mycroft's mouth. He pressed his tongue further in, wanting more. Feeling Mycroft hard against him, Greg took the opportunity to reach into Mycroft's trousers and grasp the throbbing erection in his hand.

Mycroft gasped, bucking into the touch and letting Greg deepen the kiss even further. Greg felt so good against him, as he grasped firmly onto his hardness, releasing him from his trousers. Greg began to pump him back and forth, using the build-up of pre-come as lube as he ran his thumb over the head. "You look gorgeous like this love,” he pulled back to whisper, watching as Mycroft's head fell back, breathy moans escaping his lips. He arched further into the touch begging - "Greg, please, I'm so close," he cried, feeling heat curling in his stomach. Greg stroked him harder and whispered, "Let go love, let go for me."

Mycroft cried Greg's name as he came all over his hand, kissing him hard as he felt his release. After a few moment of catching their breath,Greg grabbed the cloth and cleaned them both up. He tossed the cloth aside and pulled Mycroft down to cuddle.

Once settled against each other Greg softly said, "That was the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed Myc." Mycroft simply nodded a concurrence mumbling, "You're a wonder, Gregory…thank you."

Greg figured it was going to another night in the Room of Requirement and mumbled a few words to enchant the clock on the desk to wake them early in the morning. He rolled over on his side and pulled Mycroft close. Mycroft curled up close to Greg, his warmth a comfort pulling him to sleep. "I love you," he murmured."I love you too Myc," Greg replied as he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Every kudo, comment, and reblog reminds me to update. I'm really sorry this is slow but law school unfortunately takes priority...
> 
> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr/Twitter) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)
> 
> I'm looking to practice my writing so if you have a drabble or short fic you'd like let me know in my Tumblr ask box
> 
> Also thank to everyone I met at 221B Con for making me want to write more despite finals seasons!


	16. Twilfitt and Tattings

When Mycroft awoke, he and Greg were lying entwined together, and he could hardly sort out which limbs were his. He smiled contentedly, waiting for the clock to go off and not wanting this beautiful moment to ever end. He kept an eye on Greg until the alarm went off and Greg began to stir. "Morning...uh, I am starved," Greg groaned causing Mycroft to smile, and kiss the younger boy’s forehead. "Good morning, love."

Greg grumbled and turned over to see that in the corner of the room, clean uniforms waited for them. "Straight to breakfast then?" Mycroft asked with a smile, despite knowing his partner was not in the mood for movement. Greg nodded and stretched, “Yeah, as much as I'd love to stay here, I promised John he could run some plays by me over breakfast." Mycroft sighed, getting up as well. "Ah, yes, the Quidditch game is soon."

Greg rolled off the bed and put on the clean robe and turned to see Mycroft dressing. He approached his boyfriend and lovingly adjusted his tie. "Mind eating with me this morning?” he asked with a kiss. "I would be thrilled," Mycroft replied, pulling Greg in for another kiss.

\---

Greg entered the Great Hall and found two spot across from John who was joined by Sherlock. The four boys sat looking awkwardly at each other until Sherlock broke the silence, "Neither of you returned to your room last night." Mycroft looked at him disapprovingly, knowing that Sherlock could probably see everything that gave them away. He didn't mind, would be proud to shout it to the world, but he didn't want Sherlock poking fun.

“For Merlin's sake,” Sherlock began, “you think you two would aim for discretion and -" he was caught off by an owl delivering a sizable package to the table addressed to Greg, who looked quite confused. Mycroft tried to look casual, as Greg examined the package and glared at his brother. If Sherlock so much as breathed a word, he would end him, knowing Greg would never take the gift if he Mycroft bought it for him.

Greg tore open wrapping on the package to reveal a box from  _Twilfitt and Tattings_. Looking confused, Greg lifted the lid to reveal a set of dress robes. Greg pulled out the items and looked at them one by one: set of trousers that were perfectly his size with an accompanying white shirt, a crimson waistcoat with gold trim where the pockets were, a long black robe adorned with the same crimson trim, a gold tie, and nestled at the bottom were two broom shaped cufflinks. Greg stared at the package in utter disbelief and searched for a card. When none appeared he thought for a second before lunging across his seat at Mycroft kissing him fiercely in front of everyone in the Great Hall.

Mycroft was taken aback, but he returned the kiss eagerly enough. He wasn't ashamed of his frankly spectacular boyfriend. "I take it I did alright then," he gasped breathlessly, pleased to see Greg seemed to like it. He hoped nervously Greg would see it as he was meant to, a gift and not just a display if wealth or something, especially after the argument the previous night. But the kiss - he supposed Greg couldn't possibly be upset if that was his reaction. "Myc, you really shouldn't have but how can I be mad? I'm going to look proper next to you for once." Greg chuckled, noting the looks on his friends faces from across the table. John was red around the ears again, while Sherlock just looked uncomfortable.

Mycroft ignored them, smiling at Greg. "You always look good, love. But I could tell you were concerned and they really should suit you," he said softly, kissing his cheek. Sherlock scoffed, "Sentiment, seriously Mycroft, you are getting as soft as the cake you so love." Mycroft set his eyes firmly on Sherlock and jabbed, “As if you are one to talk. After all, do not think I do not notice you and your dear Watson," he retorted coldly, while pretending to ignore the comment on his weight. He did his best not to feel self-conscious, always feeling unattractive, but Greg seemed to like him anyways.

At Mycroft’s comment John’s eyes went wide, while Greg threw a muffin at Sherlock's head. "Oi! Leave your brother's looks out of it. He is fine the way he is and believe you me there is nothing soft under that shirt of his." Mycroft flushed at the compliment and insinuation alike. "Thank you, Gregory," he smiled. Sherlock just scowled, refusing to look John in the eye. "Don't be ridiculous." he hissed defensively.

 

"I'm going to go put these robes in my room,” Greg announced, “John want to come with me and we can discuss the plays on the way”" figuring his friend wanted an out from the Holmes crossfire. John nodded gratefully, glad to escape the feuding siblings, and caught up to Greg. "If the whole family is like that, Christmas dinner must just be a riot," he muttered.

Greg laughed out loud, "That must be a sight! I got you something by the way, just don’t take it the wrong way." Greg handed John the photo of Sherlock as a kid pirate. "It appeared in the room last night and I thought you'd like it, you know, so when he gets all high and mighty you can think of this and laugh." John took it with a wide smile. "Oh, he's adorable!" he chuckled. "But why was the room giving you a photo of Sherlock?"

"The room was Mycroft's office back at the Holmes manor and I guess it’s a photo he keeps close," Greg shrugged. "They care more than either would like to admit," John remarked somewhat sadly. "Shame."

\---

After some discussion on the plays in the Gryffindor dormitory, Greg looked over to John and asked, "So still going stag?"

John looked uncertain. "What Mycroft said, about Sherlock..." he mumbled, "Was he serious?" Greg looked at John with serious eyes and disclosed, “Sherlock tried to hex me once for talking to you after quidditch practice, John. Take that as an example in his sentimental logic.” John simply nodded, still looking unsure before he processed what Greg had told him. "He did what? He doesn't own me, where does he get the idea that that was alright?"

"I don't think he sees it like that. I'm sure he was just jealous," Greg pointed out. John just sighed and nodded. "For what it's worth, I am sorry for that. Sherlock is...well, he's different. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised."

"No need to apologize, I understand where he is coming from," Greg agreed smiling.  John chuckled, "I guess you do. Go on then, try them on, let’s see!" he gestured to the robes.

Greg wasn't expecting to try them on but got giddy at John's suggestion. Once the outfit was one he turned to John, “How do I look?" John was gaping. "Greg, mate, you look...bloody hell! Mycroft's got a good eye, you look fantastic!"

"Sorry mate, I'm taken," Greg teased with a wink. John threw a pillow at him and as Greg ducked asked, "You wearing your kilt?"

“Thought I might," John shrugged, blushing a bit. "You think I should?" He nodded, "You should. Just remember Watson, you wear anything underneath it and it’s a skirt." John turned bright red and changed the subject to their classes that afternoon.


	17. You Can Have Your Cake...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg teaches Mycroft how to bake a cake the muggle way

A week went by before Greg could see Mycroft properly.  Between classes, quidditch and his duties in the kitchen, combined with Mycroft's Head Boy duties as the semester was coming to a close, they had all but managed to exchange a few words and a brief kiss. With the weekend upon them, Greg invited Mycroft down to the kitchen when his shift ended so he could teach his boyfriend to bake the muggle way. Reluctantly, the ginger agreed.

Mycroft entered the kitchen, shifting nervously. The last thing he wanted was to set something on fire and disappoint Greg. Mycroft made it a habit to not partake in any activity he was certain he could not readily succeed in.

When the painting slid aside, Greg saw Mycroft enter, and the head boy looked obviously nervous, yet adorable. "You won't burn anything I swear Myc. Just come here and put on an apron." Mycroft smiled, taking the apron Greg offered and greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. "I've missed you."

"Missed you too love," he replied with a reciprocating kiss. "We are going to make a very basic cake and we are going to do it the way my mum taught me." Laid out before them were flour, eggs, butter, sugar, vanilla, milk, baking soda, and various kitchen implements. Greg put out a bowl in front of them, "alright love, I'm going to need you to measure out a cup and a half of flour." Mycroft nodded, and did was instructed. Greg took the flour and put it in the bowl. He placed the baking soda in and took out a smaller bowl and dumped in the sugar.

He held up two eggs bin front of Mycroft. "Do you know how to crack an egg?" Mycroft shrugged. "It can't be that difficult, can it?" Usually they just cracked themselves with a spell, but when he had tried it they had just shot across the room and exploded.

Greg stood behind Mycroft and placed the egg in his hand. Wrapping one arm around his waist and the other on his hand, Greg guided Mycroft's hand so it made contact with the side of the bowl and cracked.  Mycroft poured the egg into the bowl, trying the next one on his own. He glanced at Greg to make sure he was doing it right. The younger boy nodded in reassurance and watched Mycroft crack the egg with minimal mess.

Greg stood behind Mycroft again this time with a whisk in hand. "This is called a whisk Myc. We are going to use it to stir the sugar and eggs, then we'll add the butter." Greg placed the instrument in Mycroft's hand and showed him the correct movement.

As much as Greg was trying to be helpful, Mycroft could feel him pressed up behind him, and it was distracting. He tried to focus on the baking, memorizing the instructions, anything but Greg position against him like that.

Greg liked seeing Mycroft like this, he couldn't help but kiss the back of his neck in this position, which caused the older boy to shiver, unable to focus on anything that wasn't Greg.

Greg pulled away to add the butter.  "I'll take over stirring for a bit just add in the vanilla as I continue." Mycroft sighed quietly at the loss, watching Greg work carefully.

Once the batter was complete Greg placed the cake in the oven. "One of the elves made frosting earlier so we're good on that." He leaned against a table and pulled Mycroft close. The ginger leaned into Greg smiling, "Thank you, love, this is nice."

"And you see nothing has blown up!"

"Don't speak too soon, there's still time," he chuckled lightly.

Moments passed and soon the time went off and Greg went to pull out the cake. "I'll cheat just a bit," he smirked and used an instant cooling spell.

"Want to frost?" Mycroft nodded, fetching the bowl from the counter. Greg showed him how to frost and slowly they both covered the whole cake. Once it was done Greg sliced them both a piece. "Here try"; Greg held out a piece in his fingers, and Mycroft bent forward to eat the cake from the other's fingers, tongue flicking out at the frosting. His expression was entirely innocent, and he sucked Greg's index finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it.

"I was thinking we could head to the astronomy tower tonight. It is the weekend after all," Greg asked, flustered by what Mycroft had sinfully done with his mouth.

"Of course," he agreed, licking the icing slowly off his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologises to all of my subscribers and readers - I wish I could post more often than I do but during the academic year I'm in law school, and right after the semester ended I headed off to Holland for a summer semester I just wrapped up, so I am currently posting this chapter from my hostel. 
> 
> I hope everyone is having a lovely summer, and if you are in the States you should stop by GridLOCK DC and say hello to me as I am helping plan it and have a panel about Roleplaying, Crossovers, and AUs!


	18. ...And Eat it Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys enjoy their cake in the astronomy tower

Greg grabbed the cake and led the way to the tower. They were quiet going up, not wanting to attract the attention of other students meandering the corridors, or any of the staff that was on patrol duty tonight.

Once upstairs, Greg produced a blanket from his robe. "I enchanted the pockets," he shrugged, to which Mycroft chuckled at the ridiculous use of Greg's magic. Greg laid the blanket down and sat with his legs spread, inviting Mycroft to sit between them. The head boy sat as gracefully as he could, and leaned against his boyfriend contentedly. Greg carefully sliced another piece of cake and handed it to Mycroft who began to eat it slowly, still laying against Greg.

They sat silently, looking out at the sky, and enjoying their dessert until Greg noticed a bit of frosting on the corner of Mycroft's lip and delicately licked it off, catching Mycroft off guard.

"I could just lick frosting off you all night," Greg whispered into his ear, "and that's what I'm going to do." Greg ran his finger over the top of the cake, smeared icing on Mycroft’s neck and began to suck it off - his tongue lapping at the pulse point under his lips.

Mycroft gasped in surprise, crying out quietly at the feel of Greg's tongue and mouth on his pulse. The younger boy moved from behind his boyfriend and laid him down, as he began to undo his shirt buttons. Retrieving more frosting, Greg placed a dab on each of Mycroft's nipples and began to lick. "You are so delicious Myc," he rasped against his skin, as Mycroft whimpered, arching into the touch.

This was so, so...words escaped him, maybe for the first time he realised and looked down to see Greg at his belt.

"May I?"

Mycroft nodded breathlessly, whining a "please" as Greg began to undo his trousers, and slid them down his body. Mycroft was coming undone under Greg's ministrations, his voice sounded totally wrecked begging for contact.

Greg, however, had other ideas, and stopped himself at Mycroft's pants. He spread more frosting at the edge of the waistband, and began to suck and tease at the skin leading to Mycroft's groin. Once all traces of the icing was gone, he began to mouth the fabric covered erection, sucking it through the barrier.

Mycroft bucked into the touch, letting out a muffled cry sounding suspiciously like Greg's name. Greg smirked, "I'll make you scream my name by the end of the night Mycroft Holmes." Greg pulled out his wand and cast a silencing charm around them.

Greg finally lowered Mycroft's pants and pulled out his cock, looking greedily at the bead of pre-come that was forming as he stroked it lazily. After a few tugs, he used his hand to grip it before giving the glans an experimental lick. Mycroft whimpered and groaned. Oh, god, they were going to do this here, in the tower, he thought to himself as his mind went blissfully blank as and Greg's tongue became more insistent. Everything in his brain and body screaming for more, please, more

Greg smeared a line of frosting along Mycroft's shaft and slowly licked from the base to his head. "I think this is going to become my favourite kind of dessert from now on Myc," he teased and swirled his tongue around the head before he began to suck slowly down the shaft.

"G-Greg!" Mycroft cried out, hips bucking up into the warm heat of Greg's mouth. "Oh, Merlin, Gregory!" The words of encouragement made Greg suck harder, reaching his hand down to touch Mycroft’s sac.

"Oh, Fuck!" Greg cried. "Gregory!" he was nearly screaming as he felt the heat coiling in his stomach. Greg hollowed his cheeks willing Mycroft to orgasm wanting so badly to see his lover come undone under his mouth.

"Greg, I am going to -" he couldn't finish the sentence, coming with a scream of Greg's name. Greg swallowed Mycroft’s release with glee, relishing the taste of his partner on his tongue, knowing that it was his tongue that got him off.

Mycroft collapsed, feeling completely boneless. "Oh, Merlin, Gregory," he groaned. Greg wiped his mouth, and moved to curl up next to Mycroft. "That was amazing," he panted out, "I will never tire of hearing you say my name."

Mycroft nodded, sated and happy and looked down Greg's body. "Your turn," he murmured, not wanting to leave his lover unsatisfied. "Nah Myc stay up here," he mumbled, nuzzling into him, wanting him to stay close.

"Are you sure, Gregory? I want to thank you for that..."

"No need to thank me love. Not every time has to be both ways. I just want you to relax. You've had a stressful time the last few days."

Mycroft nodded, gratefully, cuddling close to Greg. "I love you so much," he whispered, kissing Greg's neck. "I love you too Myc," he replied, kissing the top of Mycroft's head and pulling him closer. Mycroft welcomed the excess contact as he lay there amazed that this man loved him. It almost scared him realising how much he needed Greg.

"The ball is in a few days. I look forward to it," Mycroft whispered.

"Me too. The kitchens will be busy leading up to the event, but I was able to get the afternoon that day to give me more time to get the hall ready with the rest of the prefects. Do you think I could come in earlier to work on the sky with less people around?"

"I am sure it can be arranged. Thank you again Gregory; it will most certainly be spectacular."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far! Comments and suggestions are appreciated!
> 
> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)


	19. Creating the Night Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg creates the night sky for the Yule Ball

Greg found himself outside the doors of the Great Hall the morning of the Yule Ball waiting for Mycroft. Breakfast had just ended and the hall was all but empty. Mycroft walked up to his boyfriend with a smile, and greeted him with a kiss. "Hello, love." Greg smiled at the kiss, but his anxiety was clearly present beneath his grin. "Ready?" he asked, and Mycroft nodded, opening the doors to the Great Hall.

The pair walked to the centre of the room and Greg looked up at the ceiling. He took in a deep breath and Mycroft came up from behind him and turned him to place a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. "I know you can do it," he smiled, and Greg relaxed.

Greg looked around the room noticed that not many of the decorations had been placed yet so he was working with a blank canvas. He closed his eyes and lifted his wand. Starting off slowly he thought about the time he scored his first goal in a footie match and the ice cream he got with his family afterwards. He then worked up to receiving his Hogwarts letter and meeting John on the train. By that time a little less than half the room was filled, and the charm was starting to grow thin off the wand.

But then he thought about Mycroft, his wonderful Mycroft. The way he looked at Greg and didn't pity him for his kitchen work, simply seeing him as the hard worker he was. Their time together during meals, laughing and smiling, not caring who thought it was odd that the opposing house heads were dating. The slow, languid kisses in hidden corridors of the school and the underlying excitement of getting caught. The night sky had filled up the room by this point but the stars were missing.

Greg began to think about all the times he had heard Mycroft say his name. The quiet times when they were alone together. The excited times when they hadn't seen each other for a few days and caught a minute to themselves. The times where they were behaving like horny teenagers and Mycroft called out his name like he was the only man in the world. With those thoughts a stream of stars burst through the wand tip and illuminated the Great Hall, causing Greg to slump back exhausted.

The whole time Greg was working Mycroft watched, entranced, as Greg's expressions changed. He noted the ways his boyfriend gradually focused, more and more, as seemed to be changing memories. He watched the sky change, grow; it was stronger than usual, built to last, and it was dark, beautiful. As the sky began to sputter out of the wand tip, Mycroft's heart sped up, thinking something was wrong, and Greg wouldn't be able to finish, but then Greg's face relaxed, and the sky began to grow even faster, and then the stars appeared, a steady stream of them, as if one thought had finally brought it over the edge. It left Mycroft standing in awe, wondering what it was.

He saw Greg slump and rushed to his side, supporting him and helping him sit. "You are marvellous, Gregory. That was simply incredible." He was glad they were alone; somehow the creation of this sky was too intimate to share. "I do love it when you say my name," Greg said smiling. He looked up at his work, glad he could make Mycroft happy.

Mycroft kissed Greg gently, a happy smile on his face. "I love you, Gregory Lestrade."

"I love you too Mycroft Holmes."

A few minutes later the other prefects and professors arrived to begin decorating but as each walked in, they stood in awe of the ceiling.


	20. Robes and Kilts

It took less than two hours before the hall was set up, and Mycroft excused himself to dress. "I'll pick you up by the Gryffindor common room," he promised Greg as he left

\---

Greg stood in the mirror fiddling with his outfit when John walked in. "Looking good, mate," John said appreciatively, "Mycroft'll drool."

"You think?" Greg said before turning around to see John in a kilt.  The usually casual seeker was quite dapper in his Scottish pride. "Wow, if I didn't have a boyfriend I'd jump you Watson," he teased.  John blushed. "Yeah, well- er- Between Sherlock and Mycroft, I reckon it might not be the best idea." He was secretly pleased, though, that he looked good.

"So Sherlock is going to the dance?" Greg asked casually, trying to not sound too hopeful. John nodded. "Yeah, I managed to convince him he should at least make an appearance," he explained and tried to not think of it as a date.

Greg turned and looked in the mirror again. "I'm nervous mate."

"You don't need to be. You look fantastic, and Mycroft is head over heels for you AND the Hall looks amazing. It will be perfect," John reassured.

"I'm going to ask him home with me for the break..."

"Really? What do your parents think of that? Do they know you two are together?"

"I asked them two months ago and they responded a bit after. I think they were a bit shocked, but my sister pressed them for an answer for me. After I sent her some letters about Myc and a photo of us she has been harping them so she could meet him. I mean, my parents aren't opposed to the idea just getting used to it is all."

"Good for you, mate," he smiled. "I bet he'll say yes; he'd rather spend the holidays with you than in some gloomy manor."

"I take it Sherlock doesn't speak fondly of the place either?"

"He doesn't talk about it much at all, but from what I understand, it's not very friendly," John elaborated sadly.

"Is he staying at the castle then for the break?"

"Yeah," John nodded, "and so am I. Harry's been making trouble at home again, she's always drunk, and I don't want to worry about that over Christmas."

"Understandable," Greg said sympathetically. He was happy John was staying with Sherlock, as the two of them needed each other more than they cared to admit. "Ah, before I forget. Did you get that chocolate frog I asked you for?"

"Oh yeah! Here you are," he pulled it from his table drawer. "What do you need it for?" he asked curiously. "First time I asked Mycroft to see me was with a message hidden inside a chocolate frog box. Figured I'd use the same trick for asking him home for the holiday," Greg smirked. "Aw," John teased, "you two are adorable, honestly," he chuckled as he handed him the frog.

With a shove to the shoulder, the told John off, and moved to check himself in the mirror one more time and started walking towards the door, "See you at the dance John."

\---

Outside the Gryffindor common room Mycroft waited in his dress robes, fiddling nervously with his cufflinks.

When Greg stepped out of the entrance Mycroft Holmes was certainly a sight to behold. He stood there is custom dress robes trimmed with green and his suit was a charcoal that held him together nicely. The waistcoat though was what did Greg in - it hugged him so nicely and Greg wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to keep his hands to himself. "You. Look. Incredible." he managed to get out.

Mycroft turned to look at Greg, and his breath was taken away. He had known what the robes looked like, but on Greg they were stunning. "Likewise, Love," he managed, finding enough words to respond. He stared a moment longer, before offering Greg his arm. "Shall we?"

"Of course," Greg agreed, and leaned over to kiss Mycroft. As the ginger kissed him back, he had to actively try to keep his hands to himself. Gods, Greg looked incredible. He broke the kiss, flushed, and began to walk with Greg toward the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)
> 
> Apologies to some people who read this chapter and a few before when they first posted. My iPad doesn't have good spell check so there were unnoticed typos until I got to a proper computer.


	21. Partner, I Want to Hold Your Hand

The two boys entered the hall and were awestruck by the way the decoration pulled the Great Hall together. In addition to the night sky and hall was covered in ice sculptures, piles of food, themed ornaments, and music was wafting through the air.

"It's beautiful," Mycroft said, proud of his boyfriend. "Well done, love," he kissed his cheek. "You were the one with the vision. I merely helped," Greg stated blushing at the praise. “A team effort, then," Mycroft smiled, "but your charms are stunning, thus I could not have done it without you."

"Should I get us some drinks?" Mycroft nodded. "Thank you, love."

On his way to the drinks table, Greg passed Sherlock examining one of the ice sculptures, specifically the skull at the base. "John come look at this," he heard Sherlock call as he walked closer to the table. Greg grabbed two mulled apple ciders and headed back to see Mycroft surrounded by some adults and professors, a few whom he did not recognize. Greg thought it best to stay out of the way, and hung back with the two drinks in his hand.

After a few minutes of conversation, Mycroft noticed that Greg had yet to return with their drinks and looked to see him standing a few feet from him, drinks in hand, looking around the ballroom. Mycroft caught Gregory's eye with a weary look, hoping to communicate his apology. This was supposed to be their night, not a night for politics. He nodded his head nudged, inviting Greg to come a join the.

"This is Gregory, my partner," he announced as Greg walked up to them. Boyfriend had always sounded childish to him, and if he was to be honest he viewed his relationship with Gregory as a partnership, not some fleeting fling had by school boys. So with pride he introduced him to the ministry officials.

Greg tried to not look taken aback by the term partner. Partner, he repeated in his head. Mycroft had chosen to not introduce him as merely a friend or a fellow prefect but as his partner. Greg beamed and after handing Mycroft his drink, shaking the hands of the ladies and gentleman from the ministry.

Mycroft noted Greg's surprise and gave him a look that said he refused to be ashamed of his other half; he was deeply in love with him, and he intended for their relationship to last, so he had no qualms about how he introduced the Gryffindor. Mycroft quickly tried to draw the conversation to a close, knowing that as important as it was, tonight was for him and Greg.

A few of the ministry workers looked at him understandingly, and Mycroft was relieved when they went to mingle with the other adults.

Once the adults had dispersed, Greg placed a lingering kiss on Mycroft's cheek, causing the ginger to lean into the touch. "Sorry about that, love," he said apologetically, "I didn't know they would be here."

"It's no worry, I understand. I'm just happy you felt alright including me," Greg said blushing. "Of course I did," Mycroft said almost shocked. Taking his hand, he looked Greg in the eye and said, "I intend to be with you for as long as I can, for as long as you will let me. It only felt right to include you in this part of my life as well, especially since this is my last year here." Greg smiled at the sentiments and kissed him on the cheek, letting his lips linger.

Mycroft pulled Greg toward the dance floor. "Dance with me?" The younger boy nodded and strolled with Mycroft to the dance floor letting him lead this time. As they moved around the dance floor, Greg leaned to whisper into Mycroft's ear, "You really want me around after you leave here?"

"Of course I do, Gregory. I cannot imagine not being with you, not being yours," he murmured. "I know it will be more difficult, we will not be able to see each other as often, but I would never give up on us." Greg pulled Mycroft closer to him as they danced. He never thought such an amazing man would care for him. He could have his choice of anyone with all this influence, and yet he settled on Greg.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sherlock brooding at his table as John sat beside him, talking to Sally Donovan. "You brother looks murderous Myc." Mycroft looked over, surprised. "I do wonder if John is not trying to make Sherlock jealous," he mused. "He knows how Donovan treats Sherlock, he would not normally touch her with a twelve foot pole." Greg shrugged, "Maybe they are talking quidditch strategy. I know John doesn't talk to her for anything else, but she is our chaser."

"I suppose," Mycroft agreed. "Would he leave Sherlock alone at a ball to talk quidditch, though?" He was doubtful. "I wonder what Sherlock will do." Greg looked over at the young sulking boy and smirked, "I have an idea, be right back."

Greg ran off towards the band and whispered something into the guitarist’s ear who was currently taking a break in between songs. When Greg walked back to Mycroft he was calm and smiling. "I know that face. What did you do?" As soon as Mycroft finished his sentence the band began to the opening guitar chords of a song. "Watch," Greg chuckled.

John looked up from his conversation with Sally and his eyes got wide at the song. He gestured something to Sarah Sawyer who was sitting nearby, and invited her to the dance floor. John began to dance with Sarah to the Beatles "I Want to Hold Your Hand" and it made Sherlock look incredulous. Within seconds of John arriving on the dance floor, Sherlock stalked over, grabbed John by the hand, and pulled him out of the Great Hall.

Mycroft was confused at first, but he nearly burst out laughing at the sight of poor Sarah, bewildered and confused, and John trailing after Sherlock. "As I am sure in your mind that was well thought out, and I am happy my brother made a move, may I ask why that song specifically?"

"John is a sucker for the Beatles," Greg explained, "I knew it would be the only thing to make him dance. Besides two of them went to this school right? So I figured it wouldn't be such an out of place song for the band to play. Mycroft chuckled. "Good choice," he praised. "It certainly seems to have worked. Now, would we rather they came back as a couple, or didn't come back at all, and ended up somewhere secluded instead?"

"I have a feeling they aren't coming back tonight. Especially with John wearing a proper kilt if you know what I mean." At Greg's insinuation Mycroft nearly choked on his words and opted to lead his boyfriend to a table to enjoy some of the food.

Mycroft helped himself to one of Greg's rolls, and although Greg indulged in the food, he kept glancing around nervously, enough for Mycroft to notice.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. "You look nervous."

Greg nodded and rummaged in his pocket, pulling out the chocolate frog. "Here."

"Is this like the first time, where I have to wait to open it?"

"Nah, you can open it here even though I'm not sure of your reaction"

Mycroft carefully opened the wrapper and trapped the frog in one hand and he pulled the message out. He read it over once, then twice, then thrice before looking at Greg with wide eyes. "Really? You want me there for Christmas?" he smiled, unable to believe it.

"Of course I want you there for Christmas. It’s not going to be much. It’s a small house and not much room but its home." Mycroft kissed Greg, overwhelmed. "It sounds perfect, love." It really did; he would welcome the change from the large, empty-feeling manor.

Greg was grinning ear to ear. "I was so nervous you'd say no," he admitted. "Never," Mycroft stated. "Not only is it an escape from that horrid old manor, but I get to spend the holidays with you. I could not ask for a better way to spend Christmas."

"Also no need to worry too much about Sherlock. John is staying with him here." Mycroft looked relieved at that fact. "One more dance?" Greg asked, and he led Mycroft to the floor. "John is good for Sherlock," he said into his partner's ear. "Yes he is," Greg murmured into Mycroft's ear.

The song was a slow when and Greg swayed against Mycroft, enjoying this moment between them. As the song ended Greg took out his wand and set off the fireworks bound into the spell he had created earlier. The whole hall gasped and stared, stunned by the beautiful light show. Mycroft kissed Greg under their light, not sure how he had managed to have such an amazing man by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)
> 
> Apologies to some people who read this chapter and a few before when they first posted. My iPad doesn't have good spell check so there were unnoticed typos until I got to a proper computer.


	22. Top or Bottom

Greg entered his dorm reveling in the events from the evening - Mycroft introduced him as his partner AND he would be coming home with him for the holidays! The night really couldn't have gone better.

As he was getting undressed he noticed the curtains on John's bed were pulled closed, which was a nice change since he was often greeted with John's bare arse in the morning. Hearing two sets of breathing he crept closer and pulled back the curtains enough to see John and Sherlock passed out in their now disheveled Yule Ball outfits

"Finally," Greg grinned to himself and walked to his bed.

***

The next morning Greg woke to the sensation of John nudging him. Greg blinked himself awake and was greeted by John peering over him. "Morning," John grinned widely. "Very good morning, in fact." He had woken next to Sherlock, and nothing could be better.

 "Is it show and tell time Watson?" Greg yawned, sitting up on his bed.

 "Sherlock kissed me," John blurted out, blushing and beaming. "And then, today, we woke up together, and it was the most marvellous thing."

 "Two things Watson. One you sound like a first year, two I saw you two passed out in each other last night so had an idea. But I can't believe he kissed you, mainly because I always thought you'd be the one to initiate. So what happened after he dragged you out of there?"

 John bit his lip, smiling. "He didn't even say anything, just sort of kissed me really hard. And then I managed to figure out he was jealous, and I told him he didn't need to be, and then, well..." he gestured to the bed. "We ended up here. I'm glad I took your advice and wore the kilt," he blushed.

 Slapping John on the back Greg chuckled, "finally glad you two came to your senses. Myc said yes to coming home for Christmas by the way. It helped that he knew you and Sherlock would be staying here together."

 "Oh good," John grinned. "I knew he would. And yes, yes, you can do the whole 'I-told-you-spiel, if you must."

 "John I told you so and how was he?" Greg jested wiggling his eyebrows. John looked up and the ceiling steeling himself before answering. "Bloody fantastic," he muttered, smothering a grin.

 "Wow, I asked as a joke. I haven't even done that, but good for you John."

 "It just sort of...happened. I mean, we were both kidding ourselves for so long...it felt right, hell it just felt good. I don't regret a moment of it that's for sure."

 It was Greg's turn to blush, "Good for you...I'm not even sure how to approach it with Myc to be honest, but at least one of us is getting some. Is Sherlock still asleep?"

 "Yeah," John glanced over fondly. "And, well, you'll be sharing a room for two weeks over the hols. It's bound to happen if you want it to.

 Nodding Greg looked at the lump on John’s bed. “Go back to him. I'll put a charm up so the other blokes don't interrupt. I'm going to go to breakfast."

 “Thanks mate," he grinned, going back to his own bed but turned to say, “something to think about though - would you rather top or bottom?" he winked, before closing his curtains.

Greg was stunned at the comment. He'd never thought about that.  Casting a silencing and a repelling spell on John's bed he headed to breakfast hoping to see Mycroft.

***

Sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, not taking a plate yet, Mycroft waited for his boyfriend to arrive. Greg snuck up next to him and planted a kiss on his cheek before saying, "Good morning gorgeous."

"Hello, yourself. Sleep well?"

"Oh yes as did your brother and John in the bed next to mine."

Choking on a bit of pumpkin juice he cleared his throat to cough, “Well they moved quickly!" Honestly, there were some things he didn't need to imagine Sherlock doing.

"That's what I said but John said they've been dancing around each other for so long it just sort of happened."

"They have been as good as together, just without the physical aspect, for so long I suppose it is understandable." Still, it was strange to think of his baby brother engaging in such...activities.

"Yeah..." Greg agreed, wondering how he could bring it up. “I mean, that, uh, aspect, um, would you…"

Mycroft smiled softly, and kissed Greg, alleviating the awkwardness. "I would like to, very much. But I want it to happen when we can take our time, make it memorable – not rushed."

Greg was bright red. "Yes. Okay. Good. So about the holidays, do you need to check with anyone?"

"I have sent my parents an owl, but I do not think I will be sorely missed," Mycroft shrugged.

“Well my family is looking forward to meeting you especially Eloise and I apologise for her in advanced. There are a few things to do in my town but perhaps we can go into London one day?"

"I look forward to meeting them as well. They sound lovely. And yes, a trip into London would be wonderful," Mycroft smiled.

"Just please keep in mind it really isn't going to be much," Greg reminded, not wanting to have Mycroft pity him. His home wasn’t much but it was home.

Mycroft shook his head. "Gregory, whatever it is, it is your home, and that is what matters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr) and MH (yes her initials are the same as Mycroft!). Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! Comments and suggestions are appreciated!


	23. Meeting the Family

Greg and Mycroft sat on the train heading back to London for the winter holiday. Looking out the window, Greg began to see familiar sights and said, "We should probably change soon. We'd look a bit odd in our uniforms getting off at the station."

Agreeing, Mycroft nodded. "Yes. What do you think I should wear?" He didn't know what would be expected of him by Greg's family and didn’t want to appear too posh or snobbish.

"I'm wearing black jeans and a shirt." Greg held up a black Clash shirt in his hand. "I dress a little different at home...I hope that's alright," he mumbled nervously, having never been as casual as he could in front of his boyfriend.

"Of course Gregory, whatever you like. I do not own anything like that, though," he said nervously.

Greg grinned, and moved closer to his boyfriend to say, “Myc if you did I'd be amazed. Just trousers and a button down will be fine. Whatever makes you comfortable."

Reassured, Mycroft pulled clothes from his pack and began dressing. It did take a little longer than usual because Greg would periodically distract him as they were both shirtless and trouserless a various points in time. 

As they both sat back down, properly dressed, and minimally mussed, Greg threw his arm around Mycroft pulling him closer. "I hope your family likes me," the ginger mumbled anxiously. He just wanted to make a good impression because if Greg’s family didn't approve he wouldn't stand in the way of what was a very close knit bond.

"Well Eloise is in love already and I'm sure Mum and Da will like you too. They're still reeling a bit that their son is gay by the by," Greg noted with a sympathetic smile.

“Ah. I sometimes forget that the muggle world is more sensitive about these things. But they don't mind, do they?" he asked a bit cautiously. Mycroft Holmes could handle politicians, Sherlock Holmes, and a fair bit of magical creatures, but this scared him more than all of those. How ironic. 

"They said yes to having you over, and they aren't against me being gay. They were just more worried about my safety and well-being. But they know what we are to each other so don't worry love.”

"Thank you," he murmured. "I don't know why I'm so nervous," he admitted.

"To the man who has stared down McGonagall in class, I’m finding it hard to believe.”

"This is your family. I know how to make myself seem powerful and important, but your family is different. I want them to accept me. I want them to accept us." 

As the train pulled into the station Greg pulled Mycroft into an embrace, kissing him on the forehead. "They will love you Myc. Don't fret."

Kissing him back, Mycroft nodded wearily, and lingered in Greg's embrace a moment longer before stepping away and pulling out his trunk. "Off we go then," he said, steeling himself. 

***

Exiting the platform they were greeted by Greg's family. Greg's father was taller than his son and going grey. His skin was not as tanned as Greg and he wore a broad grin on his face, the same Greg got when he was very happy. His mother stood beside him with short brown hair. Greg had her same eyes and colouring. Then there was Eloise. Dirty blond hair and a smirk on her face like she knew your secrets. She looked nothing like Greg except in mannerisms. 

"Mycroft, I'd like to introduce you to my parents Jean and Grace Lestrade and my sister Eloise. Mum, Da, Eli, this is Mycroft Holmes by boyfriend," Greg spat out nervously.

Mycroft offered his hand to shake, defaulting to formalities. "A pleasure to meet you, sir, ma'am," he nodded deferentially. He could see the family resemblance; they looked like he had imagined, sharing some of Greg's mannerisms. He could immediately tell that despite Greg's nerves, they were just as close as he had described.   
Eloise didn't hold back. As soon as Mycroft shook her hand she pulled him into a hug. "You're family now you get a hug. Besides, you are much cuter than Greg let on."

Blushing, Mycroft awkwardly patted her on the back, and looked to Greg for help. She seemed to like him, at least. That was good, wasn't it? "Er- thank you?" 

Greg chuckled, "Eli you are scaring him already." He grabbed Mycroft's hand and followed his parents to the car. The three kids sat in the backseat. Greg leaned over to explain, "We live on the outskirts of the city about an hour away."

Once settled Mycroft looked around, fascinated; he had studied cars of course, but he had never been in an actual muggle vehicle before. He glanced curiously at the buttons and dials, trying to figure out what they all did.

Noticing Mycroft's expression, Greg realised that all of this was completely new and foreign to Mycroft. He leaned over and whispered, "I'll show you how it works one afternoon. We can go for a drive."

“You can drive one of these things?" Mycroft whispered back in amazement. Greg nodded. He thought about driving, alone with Greg and enjoyed the thought of Greg explaining to him how the contraption worked and Mycroft being the student for once. "Sounds lovely. I'd like that."

Looking at the two boys chatting, Eloise eyed the pair, still appraising Mycroft carefully.

“Yeah by Da taught me last summer,” Greg added. “Think of this as your muggle education Myc."

“That's brilliant. Muggles are fascinating," Mycroft said softly, hoping the Lestrades did not mind being referred to in such a term. "Really, sometimes I think they're even more advanced than the wizarding world. In a lot of ways, we're still stuck in the medieval times. There's a lot to learn and incorporate."

"Some ways yes and some no but I'm amazed you're not put off by this," Greg chuckled before turning red at his sister’s outburst.

 

"I want to see your wand," she declared. Through the mirror Jean Lestrade glared at his daughter and Greg looked mortified.

Mycroft look at Eloise and smiled. "It's not so different to Greg's. Better suited to transfiguration than charms, though." He pull it out of his pocket to show her, studiously ignoring the potential double meaning. His wand was long and elegant, made of a dark wood. Greg held his out for comparison. While Mycroft's was elegant Greg's had and earthier feel to it. They were almost the same in height. 

Eloise looked curiously, and though before saying “Transfiguration, that's when you change things right? Can you show me?"

Mycroft shook his head,. "Unfortunately, underage magic is illegal. While I am just barely of age, this close to Gregory, I could land him in quite a lot of trouble." He didn't want to take that risk. "But yes, transfiguration is the changing of one thing to another. Perhaps if I come around during another visit when Gregory is of age, I can show you. I do enjoy turning tea cups into ferrets,” he grinned.

From there on out the conversation in the car flowed easily. Eloise asking questions, with the boys answering them as best they could. After a trip through the countryside, the car finally pulled up to what seemed to be a shop off the center of town. Greg got out of the car and helped Mycroft out. "Welcome to Le Boulangerie Lestrade. The house is attached to the shop,” he beamed.


	24. Le Boulangerie Lestrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lestrade household and some afternoon errands in town

"Oh," Mycroft breathed, wide-eyed. "No wonder you can bake so well! You never told me your parents owned a bakery," he breathed, staring at the shop, admiring its beauty.

“I can't give everything away can I?" Greg teased, kissing Mycroft's cheek.

Leading Mycroft through the back gate and into the house, Greg avoided looking at his boyfriend’s reaction, knowing the boy grew up in a manor and to him this place must be a hovel.

While Greg was fretting Mycroft began to take in the modest Lestrade household.

The entryway led to a den to the right and a small dining room to the left. The kitchen was behind a swinging door and a set of stairs in front of them led to two bedrooms - the master bedroom and Eloise's. Through the den and behind the stairs was a small hallway that led to storage, a bathroom, and the garage.

Greg walked Mycroft though the den into the small hall, and while Mycroft assumed they would be entering the garage, the door opened to reveal Greg’s room. The walls were painted an off white and were covered in posters of bands and football teams and one quidditch poster stood out as it moved. On the bedside table was a photo of the two of them dancing - Eloise had framed it for them and left it as a welcome home gift.

"It's incredible," Mycroft murmured. It felt lived in, like a home. It was cozy, not sterile, and he thought it was amazing.

"It's not that incredible Myc but it's home." Greg said kicking his foot on the ground.

Ignoring the embarrassment of his boyfriend Mycroft examined one of the photos on the wall and asked, "Is this is your football team?"

"Yeah, that’s my summer league with my mates and this is my home team," he said pointing to the poster of the club team he followed.

“I think it's fantastic. It's a home, a proper one," Mycroft grinned, still looking around the room, trying to take it all in at once.

Greg couldn't help but smile sadly. Before him was this incredible man who clearly grew up to fast and for once looked like a proper teenager. Greg knew then and there that if he could, he'd give Mycroft a home like this - lived in and full of life.

"Let's go see if my parents need help with anything since I'm home."

Mycroft nodded, eyes sparkling. He already loved it here. On impulse, he kissed him, short and sweet, before letting him lead the way.

"Thank you for this," he smiled.

The two boys entered the house kitchen which was small due to the fully functioning one in the bakery. Grace Lestrade was fiddling with a recipe for pumpkin bread when her son entered.

Mycroft looked around the small kitchen, curious. It was really quite similar to a magic kitchen, but they had to do everything by hand - Mycroft found it fascinating.

"Mum? Mycroft and I were wondering if you needed help with anything this afternoon?"

Grace looked at the boys thoughtfully and asked, "Can you go to the butcher and place an order for the ham? Also Eloise made me promise to wait for you to get the tree so the three of you can do that in town today."

Hearing that they would be going to get a tree, Mycroft looked up at Greg curious and excited. Every tree he had during his childhood had been fake, and he he wondered what it would be like to fetch a real one, getting to decorate it, and letting its natural scent fill his nose.

Greg smiled at his boyfriend, and turned towards the stairs to grab Eloise. Mycroft was about to follow when Grace spoke up.

“So Mycroft, are both your parents magical?"

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, wondering what she would think of that.

"That's nice. It was a bit of a shock when Greg got his letter but we were so proud. I'm sure your parents were too even though it was basically certain. They didn't mind lending you to us for the holidays?"

"My parents...will not miss me much,” he began, but decided to leave it at that. “Gregory is a phenomenal wizard though. His magic is astonishing," he praised.

Grace smiled sadly at the fact that Mycroft’s parents wouldn't be missing him.  "Well we are happy to have you dear. And that's good to hear about Greggy. It's a shame we can't see his skills yet here at home."

"Thank you for your hospitality, ma'am," he said. "Gregory is simply astounding. He will stun you, I am sure, when he can finally show you. His charm work is unparalleled," he beamed, proud of his boyfriend. Before he could continue his praise, Greg appeared at the kitchen door with Eloise in tow.

"Ready love?"

Mycroft nodded, and waving good by to Mrs. Lestrade, called out, “Coming!”

***

Greg walked out the door and led them all down the block, walking alongside Mycroft while Eloise walked in front.

Turning to look at them, Eloise frowned. “Uh come on and hold hands. No one will care and if they do I'll handle it" she declared, putting her fists up in the air, pretending to fight with an invisible foe.

Biting back a chuckle, Mycroft reached for Greg’s hand, and leaned in close to press a small kiss to his cheek.

Happily walking hand and hand with Mycroft into town, Greg was fine displaying his affection until they reached the butcher’s. His anxiety rose when they walked inside, and Greg met eyes with Mr. Everett - the owner of the store. The man was a tower, and he stood behind the counter and took in the sight of little Greg with a very posh looking boy with a judgemental eye.

"What can I do for you boys?" he inquired gruffly, not moving his eyes from their linked hands.

Mycroft looked at Greg uncertainly. He had been sensing Greg's anxiety rising, but he didn't know what to do to help.

"Hi Mr. Everett. Mum sent me around for the Christmas ham. Just big enough for five," he explained, smiling and praying he wouldn't be embarrassed.

The butcher looked between them, and was met with a glare from Eloise, who was having none of his nonsense.

“So who do you have here?” he asked, clearly ignoring Greg’s ham request. “Looks like you dragged him off of Savile Row."

Well this is going pear-shaped, Greg though, and watched his boyfriend look down at his shoes.

Mycroft was uncomfortable; he obviously didn't belong here. But he wanted to make Gregory proud.

Greg figured to go in for all or nothing. With his most charming smile he replied, "Where are my manner's Mr. Everett? This is my boyfriend Mycroft. He is visiting me for the holidays." He was thoroughly satisfied when the butcher looked gobsmacked, as the man had clearly not expected Greg to admit out loud to that he was bent.  

With that statement Mycroft looked up from his shoes and smiled softly at Greg, the corner of his mouth upturned. "Pleasure to meet you sir," he offered politely, looking up to meet the man’s eyes and extending a hand to shake.

Mr. Everett took Mycroft's hand reluctantly and handed Greg the bill.  

"Thank you sir," Greg responded politely and walked them out the door. As the door was swinging shut he heard the butcher speaking to himself, making some comments along the nature of "bloody poofs" and he only hoped that Mycroft and Eloise hadn't heard.

When Greg looked up, he met Mycroft’s eyes, and he looked guilty.

Mycroft had no idea how badly muggles seemed to think of two men together.

"I'm sorry, Gregory, I don't mean to cause trouble for you," he muttered.

“Bloody nonsense, please don't worry about it," he assured, pulling Mycroft close and kissed him on the cheek.

"Eli, ready for the tree?"

"Aye Greggy!" Eloise saluted, and walked them towards the tree farm.

  



	25. O Christmas Tree!

The three teenagers walked to the edge of town where a temporary shop was set up selling trees from a nearby tree farm. Greg greeted the owner and Eloise ran forth through the trees examining and comparing to find what she believed to be the best tree.

Mycroft looked around, wide-eyed and astonished. It smelled heavenly. His reverie was broken though when a small dog came running through, bumping into his leg, scratching for attention.

Mycroft crouched, rubbing its ears. "Good boy," he grinned, amused by how affection the dog was to a total stranger.

Greg walked over to Mycroft, seeing the scene between the young boy and the dog, and bent down to pet the dog too.  

"Hello Gladstone, glad to see you still around."

The dog rolled on its back expecting a belly rub and Greg complied.

"I didn’t know you like dogs Myc."

Mycroft nodded and bent down to lift the small dog into his arms. "Hello, Gladstone," he said happily, giving him a cuddle, before answering Greg.  "I always wanted one, but mother and father would not care for it over the school year. Perhaps when I move out and have a place of my own."

"I picture you with something fierce looking  but is essentially a glorified lapdog when you are behind closed doors."

At the thought Mycroft chuckled. "You will have to help me pick one out then. You know, help me find a dog that strikes the right balance."

In the distance Eloise let out a victory chant "Je l'ai trouvé! I found one!"

Laughing the boys walked over to Eloise and her tree, the dog still in Mycroft’s arms, being smothered with attention.

Eloise was standing next to a tree - it was short and plump and she looked absolutely taken with it.

"We need this one. Its the perfect tree I can feel it," she proclaimed.

Greg looked at the price and it was about ten pounds over budget. He'd just put in the difference from his kitchen earnings. He had already ordered Mycroft's gift so he had some to spare without worrying his gift would be underwhelming.

Noticing the price of the tree over Greg’s shoulder Mycroft said, "I will pay," in his insistent voice. “You are all so kind for taking me in for the holidays. It is the least I can do." Having acquired some muggle money as soon as he knew he would be staying with Greg, Mycroft wanted to test out a transaction.

Greg’s heard that voice and knew arguing was almost futile but tried anyways. "You Mycroft Holmes will do no such thing. I've got the rest. Save your money for the holiday shopping if you like," Greg stated with an adamant look.

Before Mycroft could rebut, Eloise hugged her older brother in thanks for tree. Mycroft agreed, but decided he would leave some extra money lying around for Greg to find, wanting to help with the cost.

Smiling at the hug, Greg squeeze Eloise back before ripping the ticket off the tree, and started walking to the counter to pay.

"Eli grab a sled to take the tree to the house."

As per Greg’s instructions, Mycroft and helped Eloise went to go find a sled and prepare the tree, causing Mycroft to reluctantly set Gladstone down.

A short while later, Greg walked back to see Eloise micro-managing one Mycroft Holmes.

"No you need to place the tree like that! A little to the right. Have you never seen a sled before?!"

Greg got closer and clapped his hand over his little sister's mouth lovingly. "My apologies for the harpy that comes out in Eli. She gets a bit high and mighty when she gets the chance to be the boss."

Mycroft chuckled, "It's fine. Actually," he gestured to Greg, "step back. I do not wish to do this within your trace."

Knowing what his boyfriend intended on doing, Greg grabbed Eloise’s hand and walked far enough away.

Checking the Lestrade’s were far enough away, Mycroft pulled his wand out, levitated the tree, and positioned it on the sled perfectly.

"Better?" he asked with a smirk directed towards Eloise.

Eloise Lestrade was speechless. A few seconds later she managed to blurt, "That. Was. Amazing!" She jumped on Mycroft hugging him fiercely.  

Greg stood there grinning at the look on Mycroft's face.

The ginger awkwardly patted her back, before prying himself free. "Thank you," he said uncomfortably. "Quiet, though, I am not supposed to do magic in front of muggles. You are an exception, because of Gregory."

Nodding in understanding, Eloise made a motioned that zipped her lips and ran ahead of the boys, heading back towards the house, letting the pair of them drag the tree back.

Greg walked forward to grab the sled and began pulling it home. On the way back Greg pointed out to Mycroft all his hangouts and told him some childhood stories.

Mycroft found Greg's stories fascinating, loving to learn more about his boyfriend's childhood, and noting how different it was from his own.

Once Eloise was out of earshot Greg leaned over and whispered, "She likes you already. I mean I’d written about you to her, but believe me, she is never that affectionate with new people."

"I am glad you think so. She seems kind, and very close to you." He knew her opinion was important.

"Eli and I are close. Only two years apart. She's never been jealous of the whole magic thing.  I've heard horror stories from other kids at school whose siblings outright hate them. She's always wanted to run the bakery anyways. She just made me promise to pop in during busy seasons to make the kitchen clean itself."

"I am glad. Magic can complicate relationships in muggleborn families so easily, it is a shame. I am glad you and Eloise are still close. A self-cleaning kitchen is convenient, though," he pointed out.

***

The trio arrived back at the house to find Jean Lestrade waiting for them.

"Beautiful tree kids. I'll take it inside. Greg, go see your mother in the bakery. She wants you to pick a cake for tomorrow.”

***

Greg entered the bakery, loving how decadent it smelled. He saw his mother was behind the counter finishing some eclairs.

"Greggy what kind of cake do you want for your birthday tomorrow?" she asked, as she grabbed the bundle beside her, and handed Greg four simple sandwiches - baguette bread with ham and cheese. " Also go feed the family and when you are done, send Eloise here. She needs to do some decorations on these holiday cupcakes."

Taking the lunches, Greg nodded, and replied, “Sure thing, and for the cake simple butter cake with chocolate frosting will do. Thanks Mum. Need help with anything?"

Grace shook her head and waved her son out.

***

Back outside Mycroft had watched Greg head into the bakery and he pulled the sled alongside Jean Lestrade back to the house. Once at the side door, Mycroft stood awkwardly, unsure what to do.

"Would you like an extra hand with the tree, sir?" he asked politely.

"That would be helpful. Thank you."

Mycroft stood on the opposite end of the tree, helping lift it into position in the stand. Once the tree was set Mycroft cleared his throat, taking the chance to talk with the elder Lestrade briefly before Greg came back.

"Thank you for letting me into your home. It is very kind of you to have me here for the holiday."

Jean looked at Mycroft thoughtfully, "It’s not a problem. Greg sounded so eager in the letter it was hard not to say no. We were just surprised you didn't want to go home and see your family is all," he added skeptically.

"My family and I are not particularly close, much to my regret. Gregory is lucky to have such a wonderful family and I was quite eager to meet the people he speaks so much about."

As he finished, Greg walked through the door with a bundle in his hands. "Hello, love," he greeted. “My mum made lunch," he said, hoisting up the parcel. Walking towards the dining room, Greg turned back to look at the tree.

"It’s going to look great once we decorate it."

Mycroft nodded, walking alongside his boyfriend. “It will be beautiful," he assured, and began to eat his sandwich, wondering if he had read the skepticism and hesitance on the elder Lestrade correctly. 


	26. So How Did You Meet?

The boys spent the afternoon unpacking and lounging in Greg's room - Mycroft reading and Greg catching up on the internet.

At nightfall, Eloise came to the door to tell them dinner was ready and the two boys walked into the dining room and saw spread out on the table a simple lentil and vegetable stew with a basket of freshly baked bread. It was certainly nothing like the Hogwarts Great Hall food, but Greg loved his mother's soups - he was convinced she made them out of nothing.

Mycroft on the other hand thought it smelled better than the food at school. The bread was still warm, and he could feel the scents going up his nose and hovering in the air.

"Thank you very much, Ma'am," he nodded to Mrs. Lestrade.

"Our pleasure," she said with a sincere smile.

The stew was passed around and Greg let out a noise of satisfaction at the first bite. "Mum, I miss your cooking at school, I swear magic food will never be as good as yours."

Agreeing, Mycroft ate quietly, watching the family interact, amazed to see a family that was happy and getting along - a far call from his family and their interactions. A question though broke the ginger out of his contemplation.

"So Mycroft, how did you and Greg meet?" asked Jean.

"I am the head boy, and we met on the train, at Gregory's first prefect meeting," Mycroft explained. "We met again, later, on the train, and he showed me a rather spectacular charm of his. After that, we sort of fell together," he smiled shyly, trying to keep the story short and simple.

Curious, Eloise piped in. "What did he show you?"

"He has this phenomenal charm that he created himself, to paint a night sky. It turns the ceiling midnight blue and stars begin to pop through the darkness, transforming the room. He showed me the constellations on the ceiling of the train compartment and made some shooting stars to make a wish. It was beautiful. He used it to help decorate for the ball, actually, to enormous success, especially when he set off the fireworks. It was very impressive, considering how complex it is to make your own spell, and the beauty just adds to the power.”

As Mycroft finished his explanation, Greg’s parents stared at their son in stunned silence.

"That sounds beautiful," Grace stated in awe, causing Greg to blush.

"It's really not that big of a deal..." he mumbled pushing the remainder of his food around.

"It's amazing," Mycroft praised, glowing with pride for his boyfriend. "Some of the best magic I've ever seen."

Greg was bright red and not making eye contact with anyone, but Jean brought his son to attention. "Greg, don't look so embarrassed. Clearly its something you are good at. Too bad we can't see it just yet. Also it sounds like you pulled at all the stops to woo Mycroft," he teased.

It was now Mycroft’s turn to blush. It was true, he had fallen hard for Greg, but he was somewhat embarrassed at his family calling him out on it.

Greg chuckled slightly embarrassed, but gave into the banter. “Well the first time I wasn't trying to show off. The second time yes I was. Even added fireworks to make him smile. The man runs the school; I wasn't sure if I could catch his eye."

"As if you could ever do otherwise," Mycroft mumbled. "You are fascinating, I was drawn in immediately," he smiled to himself, remembering the day Greg was describing.

Eloise got up and mussing Greg’s hair, walked to the kitchen, causing her brother to Greg mumbled something in French as she left. Coming back from the other room, with pumpkin bread in tow, Eloise stuck her tongue out at him, grinning. “You two are bloody adorable, can’t help it."

"Eloise Amelia language!" Grace scolded.

"Pardon maman, il est vrai!"

Mycroft chuckled at the exchange, adding in his reply. "Merci beaucoup," he answered, flushing slightly. "Je suis heureux avec ton frere, il est marveilleux,"

As his sister laughed, Greg stared at Mycroft confused.

"I didn’t know you spoke French!"

"Only a bit. My mother attended Beauxbaton, and insisted Sherlock and I learn the language. I think it's a beautiful language though, and I taught myself as much of it as I could."

"I don't think I can picture your brother speaking French," he added and quickly explained to his parents what Beauxbaton was.

"Da, do you think I could use the car tomorrow to go down to the lake?" Greg asked hopefully.

Jean thought for a minute before nodding. "Sure boys. I don't need it, just drive safe. No mischief on the road," he said sternly. "In fact, no mischief in my car at all, or you can clean it," he teased, causing Greg to choke on his food.

"Da! Seriously!" Greg groaned, turning bright red.

Eloise was giggling and Grace just shook her head. "Jean you're embarrassing them. Just be back for your birthday dinner love."

Mycroft couldn't look any of them in the eye after that, bright red himself, but looked up enough to ask Greg about Grace’s statement.

"You didn't say it was your birthday," Mycroft pointed out, surprised, and wondering what he could do on such short notice.

“I forgot to mention it with the ball planning. I didn't want you to worry about something else. Also I wasn’t certain you'd accept my holiday invitation."

"I still would have at least sent something by owl," he whispered, out of earshot.

Seeing that they boys had some discussing to do, Grace clapped her hands and said, “We’re turning in for the night. Early start tomorrow on holiday orders." Faux yawning, Grace stood, and dragged Jean with her upstairs, and eyed Eloise to do the same.

Once alone, Greg tuned to Mycroft to explain.

“I didn’t want to stress you, honest. Besides, it wasn’t that big of a deal and as far as I'm concerned this is my gift," he smiled, pulling Mycroft to him.

Kissing his boyfriend, Mycroft smiled in concession.

“I suppose, but I would have liked to have been told.”

“I’ll tell you next year,” he offered, and began to clear the table of dirty dishes.


	27. Teenage Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I am not good at writing smut

Mycroft helped Greg clean up after dinner, drying dishes as Greg handed them to him. Noticing they were alone, the older boy turned and kissed kissed Greg sweetly on the cheek.

"This is the first time we've been alone since the train," he murmured, pulling off the now blushing cheek.

“Yeah it is. Want to head to bed for the night?” he asked, putting away the last of the dishes.

"I would love to. Are your parents letting us share a room?"

"Yes, but only because there isn't a spare bedroom," Greg smirked.  

They walked out of the kitchen and towards Greg’s bedroom, where Mycroft was suddenly grabbed and thrown onto Greg’s bed. Looking up he saw a very lustful Greg Lestrade above him.

"I've always wanted to snog a boy on this bed," he rumbled, and bent down to move closer to Mycroft.

"Then what are you waiting for?" the ginger challenged, and reached up to capture Greg’s lips, starting slowly, letting Greg take over as lead as he slipped his tongue into the warmth of Mycroft's mouth.

Trying his best, Mycroft bit back a moan, not wanting Greg's parents to hear, as Greg's efforts began to pick up. He nipped Mycroft's lip and kissed along his jawline, landing on his ear.

"This is my teenage fantasy come true, except I had not idea the man would be so gorgeous," he purred as he sucked on Mycroft's earlobe.

Tilting his neck to give Greg access, Mycroft let out a small gasp when Greg bit down lightly along his neck, until he reached the collar of Mycroft’s shirt and was impeded.  

Mycroft quickly helped Greg undo the rest of the buttons, not caring when one of them  broke - he needed Greg there, right that second, a request Greg was happy to fulfill.

At the sight of the exposed skin, Greg bent his head towards Mycroft's shoulder and began biting and sucking, leaving a mark to claim the head boy as his. The sensation was intense enough to cause Mycroft to bite down on his fist to stay quiet, a small whimper escaped him despite himself.

"Gregory..."

Greg pulled back, admiring his handy work with a mischievous grin. "No one will be able to see it, love, promise."

The pair continued their nips and kisses and when Greg eventually straddled Mycroft's hips and the older boy was unable to stop himself from griding upwards into his boyfriend.

began to remove his shirt.

"Merlin, Greg, I need you," he gasped out, pushing himself closer.

"What do you need love?"

"You. In me. Please."

Stunned, Greg stared down at Mycroft in disbelief. "Are you sure? I don't know what I'm doing Myc," Greg's voice sounded anxious and flustered. “I’ve never...you know...with anyone..."

"Please, Gregory. I am certain. I trust you. Please," he begged again, his voice sounded wrecked.

"I...don't have any, um, condoms."

Mycroft looked up at him with a mix of frustration and love as he knew his boyfriend was only being considerate, despite their mutual lust at the moment.

"I am clean, and have never been with anyone else. You are clean and have never been with anyone else. Please just fuck me.”

Hearing Mycroft curse, and curse in order to get Greg to have sex with him was beyond his imagination and propelled the prefect forward to ravish his lover, stipping off both their trouser and pants in record time before he grew too flustered, pulling back for air.

“I want to feel all of you,” Mycroft whispered into his ear, causing the young man to grow harder.

Greg leaned towards his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lubricant and leaned down once more to ask, "Are you certain you want to do this," he whispered.

Leaning up Mycroft placed a soft kiss to Greg’s lips, and ran his nose over Greg’s replying, “Yes, I am most certain because I love you.”

Grinning, Greg kissed him again before moving down the bed, his legs straddling Mycroft's and popped the cap of lubricant to spread it on one of his fingers. He moved his hand down Mycroft's groin, until his finger came to rest on the puckered ring of flesh.

“Keep me posted of how you feel. We have all night,” he reminded nervously, and slowly pushed in, watching his boyfriend's reaction.

Mycroft breathed in sharply. It was a strange feeling, that was for sure, but not unpleasant, just different. He met Greg's eyes and slowly shifted his hips back, taking more of his finger in. He shivered, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before they opened again.

Watching his finger completely disappear into Mycroft was a full body experience. He could feel the muscles tightening before relaxing. He could see the look of anxious pleasure on his lover’s face. He could hear the breathy moan that slowly passed through his lips.

Once the muscle began to relax, Greg began to move his finger in and out, bending down to press kisses to Mycroft's inner thighs.

"Let me know when you can take another love"

Mycroft moaned softly as Greg's finger brushed his prostate, desperately wanting to feel fuller.

"I'm ready, Gregory, please," he whimpered, needing more.

Greg pulled out his first finger, and relubricated two fingers and carefully pushed back into Mycroft. Once the tightness took hold of his fingers, Greg curled his digits, purposefully trying to touch Mycroft's prostate. He soon found the bundle of nerves, and stroked it back and forth, causing the ginger to cry out briefly before muffling himself, arching into the touch.

"Gregory, Merlin, fuck," Mycroft was babbling, it felt good, he needed this, needed more. "Fuck, Gregory, please," he begged.

Greg began to scissor Mycroft's hole, opening up his boyfriend more. It was gift to see Mycroft come undone. The fact that Greg could make this man, the epitome of control, whimper, was enough to make Greg come.

"Let me know if you want another finger or if you just want to start."

Mycroft moaned quietly, struggling not to be heard. "I'm ready, I can handle it, please, Gregory, I need you, all of you!" He could feel Greg everywhere, inside him, on top of him, and he needed him like he had never needed anything before.

"Please," he broke down and begged.

Making sure that his cock was slick enough, Greg lined himself up with Mycroft's entrance, and slowly pushed the head in, waiting for Mycroft to adjust.

The stretch was a bit painful, but as soon as he relaxed, he motioned for Greg to move in further, watching as the younger teen tried to keep himself composed, but Mycroft couldn’t wait for the adjustment.

"Move, Gregory," he urged, rolling his hips. "Please!"

Taking Mycroft at his word, Greg began moving in and out of him, first slowly, but gradually picked up the pace as he felt the muscles relax around his prick. Sweat was covering both of them now and Greg was in awe of the entire situation - he was losing his bloody virginity to Mycroft Holmes.

Mycroft was lost in the sensation. Greg was everything, everywhere - he was seeing stars, crying out and whimpering and moaning beneath him, unable to hold anything back anymore. This was it, his first time, and it was perfect because it was Greg, who made him feel whole.

"When we get back to school I'm going to do this to you again so you can be as loud as you want Myc. I want to hear my name on your lips," Greg grunted, tilting his hips experimentally, trying to brush against Mycroft's prostate.

The ginger had to swallow a scream as Greg brushed the sensitive nerves, unbelievably turned on by his words. He lifted his hips, taking Greg in even deeper, and purposefully clenched around him, lips open in a silent cry. "Oh, Merlin, Gregory," he whimpered, trying not to scream.

Kisses didn’t do much to stifle the sound, but rather than focusing on who could hear them, Greg reached his hand between them and began stroking his lover’s length in time with the thrusts. He couldn't hold on much longer. The heat of Mycroft's inner lining was too much, combined with the contractions from Mycroft's impending release.

"Love I'm going to come soon."

"Please, Gregory, come, I want to feel you," Mycroft gasped, and soon felt Greg pulsing inside him, releasing his climax.

Knowing it wouldn’t be much longer until he softened, Greg picked up his pace around Mycroft’s length and in no time felt his boyfriend’s release in his hand. Thoroughly exhausted, Greg collapsed on top of his boyfriend, laying his head in the crook of Mycroft’s neck.

As Greg collapsed on top of him, Mycroft felt boneless, feeling the warm release inside him.

"Gregory. That was perfect," he declared into the empty room.

Turning to kiss the sweat-coated flesh of Mycroft’s neck, Greg kissed his skin and whispered, "I'm glad you thought so. I was quite nervous."

"You were amazing," he replied, blissed out. His eyes were closed and a smile hovered on his lips as he trailed his hand gently up and down Greg’s back.

“I am glad it was you,” Mycroft spoke softly into Greg’s ear. “I do not think I could have asked for this to go better.”

“Same,” Greg responded, “and thank you for giving me the honour.”

After a few minutes passed of the boys laying atop each other, Greg lifted himself up and off of Mycroft to cross his room and grab a flannel from the hamper.

"I think we may want to clean up a bit. You can take a shower if you want to."

Mycroft agreed. He could feel Greg's semen drying and cooling inside him, and it was becoming uncomfortable. He rolled off the bed carefully, noticing how sore he was, but wanted his lover beside him nonetheless.

"Join me?"

"Sure. Hopefully my parents don't notice."

"Your father didn't seem like he would mind," Mycroft blushed.

"I don't think its a question of minding, more like a question of not wanting to know their son is getting buggered a floor below them."

“But I was bottom,” he joked, and walked into the shower, feeling the spray of the warm water.

“Not the point Myc,” Greg laughed and washed the two of them, taking care around Mycroft’s sensitive behind. Once showered Greg turned off the water, and grabbed some towels, taking it upon himself to ruffle Mycroft's hair with the towel - the ginger looked wholly unamused by this action.

"I'm not a child," he grumbled, "I can dry myself."

"I know you're not a kid but its funny seeing you frazzled."

Sticking out his tongue, Mycroft marched back to the bedroom, and curled up under the covers, kissing Greg sweetly, before yawning.

"I love you, so much more than I could ever hope to tell you."

"I think I might have an idea," Greg murmured before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it wasn't too horrible to get through that, but we wrote it because what else are two teenage boys going to do when they get a room to themselves?


	28. The Howler

The next morning came and the boys were awoken by a knock at the door. Lifting himself up from under Mycroft, Greg rolled out of bed to let his boyfriend laze about in the bed. Upon opening the door he was greeted with the sight of Eloise holding a crimson envelope.

"This came for Mycroft this morning. A rather stern looking owl dropped it off."

"Thanks Eli," he said as he shut the door, and went back to sit on the bed where he gently shook Mycroft’s shoulder.

"Love, a letter came for you."

Yawning, Mycroft turned over and glanced at the letter. Knowing immediately what it was he groaned, and stuffed his head under the pillow. The letter was a howler. What had he done to deserve a howler?

"Myc what is it?"

"Howler," he grumbled miserably. "It's going to explode any second now, and yell at me for whatever it is I've done now."

"You haven't bloody done anything. Who is sending you a howler?"

With a shrug of his shoulders Mycroft sat up and plucked the envelope from Greg’s hand. "Give it here, let's get this over with," he sighed, sitting up. "And it started as such a nice morning."

As soon as Mycroft opened the letter, it was floating in midair and a rather proper female voice began to pour from it.

"Mycroft Percival Holmes, I cannot believe I am sending this letter, but seeing as your father is indisposed at the moment and is also quite cross, this unseemly task falls to me."

The voice was not as loud as Greg thought, but the woman's voice had a ferocity all on its own.

> _"We did not receive your owl that you were not coming home for the holidays until yesterday because we were not home at the manor, however, your absence is inexcusable. Not only did I have to hear from the adviser to the Minister of Magic's wife that you attended the Yule Ball with a young man, who is firstly not of your house but a muggle-born as well! I have never been so embarrassed Mycroft! My sources also tell me that he works in the school kitchens to afford Hogwarts, honestly son, I hope you did not know about that because that kind of personal association is rather unacceptable for a Holmes. Its bad enough Sherlock does his best to wreck havoc on the family's name, but now you as well. Your father is beyond cross. On top of all this, we find out that you went with that boy to his muggle hovel for the holidays. Needless to say we expected better of you. I implore you to cease this association at once. You have a persona to maintain Mycroft, and we have worked too hard to have you throw it away on a bit of rough!"_

With that, the letter spat at Mycroft and proceeded to destroy itself.

Staring at the shredded missive on the floor, Mycroft closed his eyes before standing in front of Greg, who was staring at the spot of the suspended letter, and embracing him.

"I do not care Gregory, not about any of that. I will not let you go, not for them, not for a position, not for anyone. They are wrong."

“It really was too good to be true wasn't it? I'm always going to be the kitchen boy aren't I?" he choked, unmoved from his position on the bed, in Mycroft’s arms.

"Not to me," Mycroft insisted, "you are a phenomenal man, a fantastic wizard, you are one of the most powerful wizard I have ever met, and who cares that you're muggleborn, their views are medieval! You are my boyfriend, my partner, and I love you, Gregory. Nothing else matters."

Finishing his declaration, Mycroft leaned in to Greg to kiss him gently, and soon he felt Greg’s lips pushing against his.

As he kissed back his boyfriend, Greg tried to fight the tears in his eyes. He didn't want to cause Mycroft any trouble, but how could he give this magnificent man up?

"I don't want to cause any problems for you Myc," Greg whispered. He feared if he kept talking he was going to break down. That howler tore at his dignity and he couldn’t keep it together much longer.

"You will always be worth it," Mycroft promised. "You mean so much to me, Gregory, my love. They do not matter, and I am not going anywhere."

Mycroft pulled Greg down on the bed, and let the younger boy curl up next to him. Both of them just wanted to lay there and not think about the outside world.

"I will never let you go," he whispered, kissing the top of his head.

***

After quite some time had passed lying in bed, Greg nudged Mycroft asking, "Are you in the mood for breakfast? I'll cook some pain perdu. you can crack the eggs?"

"Alright," Mycroft nodded, "sounds delicious."

Soon, both boys were in the kitchen - Greg taking over as head chef and Mycroft his sous, following each instruction.

Greg got out the bread and instructed Mycroft to crack the eggs like he had showed them when Mycroft's had his lesson in the kitchen. Once the eggs were cracked, Greg whisked butter, vanilla and sugar into the eggs and grabbed some slices of day old bread to soak. As the bread soak, Greg walked over to the stove and lit the burner. Once it heated up, Greg began to cook the bread until it was crispy and golden on each side. He asked Mycroft to grab some plates, and served them each three slices. He topped off the toast with powdered sugar and a bit of honey.

"Here ya go love. Pain perdu by your personal chef and boy toy."

"It smells amazing, love. Thank you." Kissing him briefly on the cheek, Mycroft smiled and added, "Happy birthday."

Because of the excitement of last night and the drama of this morning Greg had completely forgotten it was his birthday.

"Thanks love. It's the best one yet."

"Really? I would have thought, with the howler, it would be knocked down a few levels?”

“No. I know you love me. Best gift ever,” he smirked, and led them to the table to eat.

Once finished, and Mycroft cleaned up the kitchen with Greg putting the plates away, Greg suggested they go to the bakery and see if the Lestrades needed anything delivered before they left for the day.

The boys entered the bakery and were greeted with the scents of freshly baked bread and pastries. Greg's mother stood behind the counter writing out inventory lists, while Eloise was placing the finishing touches on some scones. Jean was in the back kitchen out of sight, mixing ingredients and preparing more pastries

"Mum, Myc and I were taking the car out today but I wanted to know if you needed delivery help."

"I'll take a look," she said and at that moment Jean walked out from the kitchen.

"Morning boys. Mycroft do you mind coming to the back for a minute?”

Greg eyed his father wondering what was going on but he gave no indication and even his mother had no idea what was going on. Mycroft swallowed hard, paling a bit, but nodded.

"Of course, sir," he agreed, and walked to the back. He stood stiff and formal, looking at Jean and waiting for him to speak. He loved Greg, and he knew he always would but that didn't stop his father from being intimidating.

"This morning I passed by Greg's room and heard the voice of a woman chastising you for dating my son. I believe she called him the kitchen boy as well as your bit of rough. So before I get upset would you like to explain to me why I should allow you to continue staying in my home?"

Mycroft took a deep breath and began to explain himself slowly. "Sir, I come from a very long line of pure-blooded wizards. There are some generations who still believe that blood purity is important. I think it is bullshit, if you will pardon the language, sir, but my parents are less modern. Not only that, but my family is rather well off. Now, my parents believe that I have a family name to uphold, or some such rot, but all I know is that I love your son, and no matter what my mother calls him or me, I would never think any less of him for what I see as strengths. He works so hard, and earns everything he has, and more. I love him, sir, and I can only hope that's enough for you."

Jean Lestrade listened patiently and when the fretful looking ginger finished his plea he broke into a smirk.

"Grace's parents weren't too keen on her marrying that 'baker boy' who according to her father was 'most certainly a vagrant' either.  I know the feeling.  I just wanted to make sure you didn't see my son as what your mother so colorfully said.”

Sighing in relief, Mycroft visibly relaxed. "Thank you, sir. I swear to you, I would never hurt Gregory. He is everything to me."

His parents were old fashioned, but their opinion didn't matter. He was smart, he was skilled; he didn't need their help to make it. If he had to choose, he would choose Greg every time.

"Good. Now off you go.  Enjoy your day in the car," Jean expressed cheekily, laughing at the how red the ginger boy got as he walked out of the back kitchen.

Waiting with piles of boxes ready for delivery, Greg saw his ruffled boyfriend and asked,  "What was that about Myc?"

"Your dad overheard parts of the howler," he muttered. "He wanted to make sure I was not the same as her, did not share her opinions. He was just looking out for you."

"Oh no. What did he say? Myc, I'm really sorry..."

"No, no, it is fine," Mycroft reassured him. "He asked me to explain what he heard, that is all. And then he told me he had been in the same boat with your mum, except on your side. It’s alright, really."

"If you say so," he mumbled and turned to his mother. "Alright mum, we're off with the deliveries. We should be back before dark and before dinner. Do you need anything else while we're out?"

Grace shook her head, "Nothing dear. Have a good day."

As they passed through the door Eloise yelled, "Have fun snogging in the backseat," and Greg nearly tripped on his own feet, as Mycroft blushed hard, but caught Greg with a steady arm, removing half of the delivery packages from his arms.


	29. The Pond

When they arrived at the car, Greg noted Mycroft's enthusiasm but subtle apprehension as the ginger eyed the vehicle with suspicion.

"Alright, car basics. This is the boot," pointing to the back of the car, and opens up the hatch revealing just emptiness and a spare tyre to Mycroft. Greg began placing the packages inside and closed the lid. Walking Mycroft over to the passenger side of the car, Greg opened the door for him, and sat him down before running around to the driver side to slide in.

"You're going to put your seat belt on, and do it like this," demonstrating with his own and grabbed the strap to bring it across his waist, inserting it into the buckle.

Mycroft nodded, copying him, securing the seat belt with a click.

"So. What do all the buttons do?" he asked, bewildered.

Greg chuckled, "This is going to be fun. I should take you to the cinema too."

Turning on the car Greg continued his explanation. “That was the ignition, it starts up the car. Under the bonnet, here," Greg said pointing, "is the engine and its what makes the car work. It uses petrol as fuel and science I am unfamiliar with, but apparently combustion is involved."

Looking around for what to explain next, Greg’s hands landed on the wheel. "Okay, so this wheel in front of me steers the car. The handles on the side control the wipers and the indicators that tell people around you which way you are going to turn. This here is the gear lever that changes how fast you can drive the car...in a sense. It has to do with the rotations per minute, which you monitor here," and Greg pointed to the dial indicating RPMs. "Then this one, the speedo, tells you how fast your are going. There are signs posted around the roads that tell you how fast you are allowed to go."

Mycroft nodded along to the explanations, taking it all in, slowly.

"Alright. Can you show me?" he asked. It was a lot to learn in a short period of time, but he thought he was grasping it.

The car began to maneuver down the road and once Greg was out of the bakery’s property and on the open road Mycroft chimed him.

"The cinema. We learned about that in muggle studies, like a place muggles go to watch moving pictures that tell a story," he defined, waiting for Greg to affirm or deny.

"That's exactly what the cinema is, which I'm amazed a lot of people haven't been to. We can go during your visit. The local theatre plays classics over the holidays."

Greg flicked on the radio and switched it to his own music he had on a CD and as it played Mycroft leaned back in the seat with an easy smile on his face.

"Who is the music by?" He liked it, much to his own surprise; he usually listened to classical music and the occasional wizard pop.

"The Clash. But I think the song after this is Buddy Holly. Its a mix of the music I like. What do you think?"

"It's brilliant. Different. I like it more than I thought I would," he admitted, opening his eyes to smile lazily at Greg.

Greg grinned from ear to ear at the sight of his boyfriend acting like a proper teenager as they made their deliveries, driving on the road and listening to the music.

After making the last delivery, Greg began to make his way to the lake a few miles away from his town that he knew reliably froze over each winter.

"Have you ever gone ice skating before Myc?"

The ginger shook his head. "I learned about that in muggle studies too, though. It sounds difficult," he said nervously. "How do you balance on something so small?"

"You can say the same thing about a broom Myc. I'll show you. Just try it for a bit and if you don't like it we can stop. Is that alright?"

Nodding, Mycroft decided he would try anything for Greg, knowing if he fell, Greg would surely catch him. “I’ll have to transfigure something into skates, then. Make sure you stay well back, so I do not trigger the trace. I trust you."

"Myc I have skates in the backseat,” he explained, smiling at his boyfriend’s reflex of jumping to magic as a cureall. “You don't need magic for everything. But thank you for trusting me."

Opening the trunk, Greg handed off a pair of skates to Mycroft.

"I was not certain that you would have extras," he explained. He took the skates, inspecting them closely, curious. Learning about something was not the same as seeing it in real life. "So, how do we do this?"

Greg slipped his skates, and watched Mycroft copy. Greg leaned over to make sure the skates were on tight and he helped Mycroft stand up.

"First thing, do not be afraid to fall. I'm going to try not to let it happen but if it does you will be fine. Second, its just like walking with a bit of a glide."

Greg hopped on the ice to demonstrate a bit and came back to the edge. "You know how you dance, formally I mean. You know how its more like gliding, try that." Greg held out his hands and led Mycroft onto the ice.

Mycroft took hesitant steps at first, having trouble balancing. He knew he would have fallen over immediately without Greg's hands. Still, he made it onto the ice, and tried to imitate Greg's steps, before waving his arms madly as he overbalanced, falling.

The ice was cold as Greg knelt down on to check on Mycroft. "You alright love?"

"Fine. It's harder than it looks" he grunted, struggling to his feet again, gripping Greg for support.

"Alright hold still." Greg placed himself in front of Mycroft and held on to both of his hands and began skating backwards, pulling Mycroft along with him. Gradually, Mycroft found a pace, and his balance. He was still clumsy on the ice, but within fifteen minutes he no longer needed any support to stay upright, for the most part. He found he was actually having quite a lot of fun, despite all the slips and falls.

With Mycroft stable, Greg decided to show off a bit by doing some fast laps around the lake and a small jump. After his exhibition he pulled up right next to Mycroft, letting some ice mist the area, and kissed him. "Skate with me?"

Mycroft stared at him like he had grown an extra head. "I can't hope to keep up with you," he pointed out. Greg was fantastic, just like he was at everything else; skating was fun, but how was he meant to keep up with him?

"Then I'll keep up with you," he shrugged, and grabbed Mycroft's hand lightly and kept pace with him around the lake.Mycroft was slowly gaining confidence. He knew he must still seem slow and hopeless, but he felt like he had learned something new, and Greg had been so patient with him.

"Thank you for this, Gregory."

"No need to thank me love," he called back as he happily glided alongside Mycroft until they had circled the lake entirely.

Once finished the pair walked back to the car and Greg popped to the back seat to make sure the thermos he put there earlier was still warm.

"Success!" he shouted holding it out.

Mycroft smiled, pulling his skates off. "What is it?" he asked, enjoying the sight of Greg so happy.

"The cocoa mum made is still warm," he shouted, waving Mycroft to the back seat next to him, and once the older teen was sat beside him, Greg handed him a sandwich then took out his own. He covered their legs with a blanket and was content with the makeshift picnic he had for them. Mycroft leaned against Greg happily, eating his sandwich and drinking the offered drink.

"This is amazing, Gregory," he murmured, looking up at the sky through the window. "It's beautiful."

"Its just the sky Myc," Greg teased.

"Not the sky. This. The lake, the sun, you, snow and ice and skating and picnics and all of it," he explained. "Mostly you though," he grinned.

"You really never relax do you?"

Mycroft shook his head. "There is always an appearance to keep up," he explained. "People talk, and you need it to be the right talk. But this...this is nice. With you, I can relax, and feel safe."

Greg smiled sadly at this. Mycroft was seventeen, he should be enjoying his teenage years and getting into trouble, not sucking up to Ministry people and being groomed to what his family wanted him to be. "Then relax Myc, because that's what I'm here for."

Mycroft smiled, kissing Greg's cheek. "I love you," he murmured. "You really have no idea how much." His eyes fluttered closed, as he reveled in this, feeling Greg's body heat against his, sharing a meal and a day.

"I think I do," Greg whispered back, kissing the top of Mycroft's head.

After an hour passed of the two boys lounging in the car, Greg figured it was time to head home.

The car pulled into the Lestrade garage and the boys made their way inside. "Mum, Da, Eli, we're back," Greg called out.

Eli appeared in the doorway. "Mycroft, inside, Greggy, don't move," she ordered bossily.

Mycroft glanced at Greg, before following her into the house wondering what was going on.  


	30. The Birthday

Greg waited in the doorway not sure of what to expect. The last time his boyfriend was pulled off by a family member his intentions were questioned.

Inside, Mycroft listened as they outlined the plan. Apparently, in the muggle world, sixteen was an important birthday, and his family had gotten him a rather special gift, meant to be a surprise. Mycroft was to blindfold Greg and bring him inside, before revealing the glossy motorbike. It was used, and not the best model, but they had fixed it up carefully and it was beautiful.

From outside Greg yelled, "It's getting cold out here!" causing Mycroft and the Lestrades to chuckle.

Walking outside, Mycroft grabbed Greg from behind and asked, "Do you trust me?" At the nod, Mycroft ran the silk cloth through his hands and tied it around Greg’s eyes.

"Myc, what's going on?"

"Ssh, just trust me," he murmured, guiding him slowly into the house and settled him in the living room. At the signal from Eli, Mycroft released the knot and watched his boyfriend blink in surprise.

As he felt the silk slip off his eyes and he was suddenly staring at the most beautiful motorbike he had ever seen, and though this gift was solely from Greg's family, Mycroft was able to share in Greg's happiness.

"Well?" Eli asked excitedly.

"She's beautiful!" Greg exclaimed, running over to inspect it more closely. It was clearly used but well taken care of. Greg didn't care about new, he cared about potential. She was dark grey and glossy and Greg could not wait to get her on the road. He sprang up and lunged at his parents. "You two are amazing!" he declared, kissing them both on the cheek.

"And you Eli," he began to say walking over to pick her up in a hug, swinging her, "are most likely responsible that it was grey and not some powder blue, so thank you!"

Eli chuckled. "Nah, they wanted a weird beige one. Not a chance!" Greg's parents just laughed, glad that Greg seemed to like it.

Mycroft stood off to the side, not wanting to intrude on what was clearly a family moment and was stunned when Greg ran over to him.  

"You are going to look awesome riding on the back of that with me! I'm going to look like James Dean!"

Not knowing about the man Greg was referencing, Mycroft just smiled, and explained his absence of a gift, despite having no advance notice. "Your sister told me about the gift. It will not arrive on time, but I ordered a riding jacket for you, for your birthday."

"Really Myc?! What colour?"

"Black," he said, "I have the picture sketched, actually, I sent the design myself." The notebook was hidden at the bottom of his trunk. It was fairly simple, black with a zip from the side of his hips to his neck and an upturned collar, and appropriately large pockets. There was also a wand holster sewn onto the inside.

"You've got to show it to me later! How did you even have the time to do this, you found out about my birthday yesterday?"

Pulling out a small gold chain from his pocket, Mycroft held up what at first appeared to be a pocket watch but was instead a time turner. "I acquired one of these years ago, during my fourth year," he explained. "I did it all night."

Greg stared at the contraption. He was staring in partial disbelief because of the device itself, but the other part of him was in shock that his boyfriend has literally turned back time for him. Throwing his arms around Mycroft, he buried his face into his neck and whispered, "You’re unreal, you know that love?"

“Hardly,” Mycroft scoffed. “Now go on, take her out, I know you want to!" he kissed him briefly - and chastely (his parents were still in the room! - before sending Greg towards the bike.

"Nah, Myc its late and dark. Besides there is cake and tea, and time with the people I love."

The group walked towards the dining room where in the center of the table was Greg's cake, accompanied by his favourite comfort food - fish and chips.

Mycroft had never had that dish before, his parents always looking with disdain at "commoners food", and his mouth watered at the smell, but didn’t move to eat the dish.

Eloise noticed Mycroft's hesitation at the food. "You can eat it with your hands if you want. Its good if you squeeze the lemon on it and malt vinegar is pretty decent on the chips."

"It's one of Greg's staples. Every time we went out as a family when Greg was young he would eat nothing but fish and chips. I guess its not served at school very often as Greg specifically requested this while he was home," Grace chimed in.

Mycroft shook his head, "No, it is not served at school but it smells fantastic," he grinned. Following Eloise's advice he grabbed a chuck with his hand and bit in, humming around the taste in his mouth.

"Maybe you should teach the elves to make it at school," he suggested to Greg.

"Not a bad idea. Only so many Shepherd's pies and pumpkin based food I can eat," Greg chuckled.

"You cannot be the only one who misses this at school as I am sure plenty of students eat this at home. Now I've tried it, I know I will," he added, smiling appreciatively at Mrs. Lestrade.

"Thank you dear. This just means you'll have to come back another time for more of my cooking," she said graciously.

At the close of the meal Jean pulled out a lighter and lit the candles on the cake, and began to sing. As the song concluded, Eloise told Greg to make a wish. Closing his eyes, Greg wasn't sure what to wish for. He had his family, a wonderful boyfriend who loved him and was a fantastic shag, and his new motorbike was sitting in the living room. Nothing could make this better. So that's what he wished for - for his life to stay the same as it was now. Perfect.

With the flame of the candles blown, Mycroft wondered what Greg wished. He wondered if he could make it come true; he knew he wanted to because he would always do what Greg wanted

When dinner finished Greg offered once more the clean up, while his family went to bed. Christmas was in four days and the bakery was getting busy. Once the dishes were put away, Greg and Mycroft went back into his room.

"I want to see your sketch, if you don't mind..."

Mycroft nodded, pulling the book out of his trunk. In it were lots of sketches, mainly of Greg. He flipped to the jacket, measurements written in as well. "What do you think?" he asked nervously.

Greg traced his hand over the drawing. The detail was incredible and drawn for utility as well as making Greg look good. Very good.

"Myc, this is beautiful. I didn't even know you knew how to draw."

"It is something I practice and enjoy, but it was not an encouraged hobby in my house. But I am glad you like it. Thank you.”

"Do you have any more I can see?"

Mycroft hesitated, but nodded, waving to the book as permission. Most of his pictures were of Greg, and he was slightly embarrassed and nervous.

The pages began to flip through Greg’s fingers. On the parchment were Greg’s dress robes, the night sky in another, but the majority of the drawings were of Greg. His eyes, his hand holding a wand, him smiling. The detail was incredible. He was touched that Mycroft took the time to draw him and remember him.

"These are the most beautiful drawings I've ever seen Myc."

Mycroft just smiled, blushing and looking at the ground, knowing the compliment was hyperbole. "Thank you. I suppose it is fairly obvious where my inspiration comes from." He drew Greg whenever he was thinking of him, really, often not really thinking about it, letting his pencils move on their own. His notes were littered with small drawings of Greg, or things that reminded him of Greg.

Greg could see the love put into each stroke and detail. It was overwhelming how loved he felt.

"I don't deserve you Myc."

"Don't be ridiculous, if anything it is the other way around. You are a wonder, Gregory. Simply fascinating, and I love you."

"It's hardly the other way around,” he countered, “you could have any person at school but you chose me."

Closing the sketchbook, Greg pulled Mycroft under the covers with him, ready to go to sleep.

"I cannot wait until we are both out of school and I can fall asleep next to you every night...that is of course if you want that," Mycroft added.

"I like that idea, very much, " Greg mumbled as he fell asleep.

"Me too. Sleep well my love. Happy birthday," and soon fell asleep wrapped around his lover, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Every kudo, comment, and reblog reminds me to update. I'm happy I've been able to update over the holiday and hopefully it won't slow down too badly with the start of the semester but as always law school unfortunately takes priority...
> 
> The two authors of this fic are myself (Oddree13 on Tumblr/Twitter) and MH. Find her on Tumblr (namedfortwoheadmastersofhogwarts)
> 
> I'm looking to practice my writing so if you have a drabble or short fic you'd like let me know in my Tumblr ask box. Also if you are on the East Coast and love Sherlock check out GRIDlock DC a Sherlock fan convention I am an organiser for!


	31. Andrews

The next morning Greg awoke to find Mycroft already awake, reading in bed.

"Morning love. Sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," he smiled, kissing Greg's cheek. "Did you?"

"Yeah, sleeping with a gorgeous bloke helps." Stretching, Greg pulled himself from bed. "I want to go into London tomorrow. What do you think? Today we can probably help around the shop."

"London sounds wonderful. I don't know how much help I'll be, though. I still don't really know how to bake."

"No worries. You can help work the front. Brilliant chance to work on your muggle relations," he proffered and the two of them got dressed haphazardly and headed to the shop.

"Mum! We're here to help," Greg called, causing Grace to walk out from behind the kitchen door.

"Lovely, today is the last day for customer orders so I expect there will be a flood. Greg you can help your father and I in the back, and Mycroft, do you mind helping Eloise man the storefront and help with the orders?"

Mycroft nodded with a smile. "Of course, ma'am," he agreed, looking for Eloise. He was glad he was being allowed to help; it felt like he was part of the family, and it was wonderful.

Eloise walked in from the outside, carrying with her extra supplies she picked up from the corner store. Taking a look at the ginger behind the counter she smirked. "Nice shirt Mycroft. New?"

Mycroft looked down at the comment and blushed. "Oops," he muttered, glancing at Greg who was fiddling still in the front, embarrassed. He had grabbed one of Greg's band t-shirts by mistake. "Let me carry some of that," he offered.

Greg glanced over and noticed Mycroft was wearing his Sex Pistols shirt. That was a sight to behold if there ever was one Greg thought. It was enough the Mycroft had been in jeans during their visit to Hogsmeade, but this, this was something else. "Looks good on you," Greg mumbled before turning to the kitchen, trying to ignore the tightening in his trousers.  

Eloise handed off some items to Mycroft and told him where to put them away. "Now let me show you the order forms." She showed him how to take down an order and laughed when he asked for a quill and ink.

Failing to see the humour in his question, Mycroft looked at Eloise confused until she handed him a pen.

"Ah. Yes, of course," he said, embarrassed. He had forgotten that muggles used something different to write.  

Once Mycroft got the hang of the pen (It was so much more efficient than a quill!), he observed Eloise take orders. After a few customers had come in and out, Mycroft took over the register while Eloise stocked the glass case with the pastries she had put the finishing touches on.

The door the the store chimed and in walked a boy around the same age as Greg, and greeted Eloise with a smile.

"Mornin' Eli. Mum sent me with the bread and cake order."

Eloise looked up from the case, "Just place the order with Mycroft here at the front.”

Mycroft smiled at the boy. "Hello," he greeted, pen at the ready with an order form. "What can I order for you?" he asked congenially, hoping this went well; he didn't want to let the Lestrades down, and he wondered if this was a friend of Greg's by the familiarity he greeted Eloise with.

The boy eyed Mycroft curiously. "No offence mate but you don't look like the type tha listens to the Sex Pistols."

"I accidentally borrowed Gregory's shirt this morning when I was not paying attention," he explained, trying to laugh it off.

"Oh you're one of Lestrade's mates from that posh boarding school he goes off to?"

"Yes, I am. He was kind enough to invite me over for the holidays."

Eloise heard the exchange while she was rearranging the petit fours and decided to chime in. "Andrews, that's Greg's boyfriend," she stated, knowing the conversation was headed there.

"Ah, so the posh school did turn him into a poof."

Unfamiliar with the term, Mycroft took in the boys smirk and stance and inferred its meaning. Mycroft tried not to get angry, but he didn't like people speaking badly of Gregory. He also knew enough to know he needed to be polite to customers. "With all due respect," he said coldly, "I think you shall find that irrelevant to the order. What do you need?" he asked again, trying to maintain a professional demeanor.

The boy snickered and leaned on the countertop. "The order can wait. Me and the boys always did wonder what Lestrade got up to at that school. Did you two meet in buggering 101?"

Mycroft fixed the teenager with his most intimidating glare. He knew exactly how to cow other people. "Place your order, or leave. I will not tolerate your rudeness to Gregory or myself."

Andrews broke eye contact with Mycroft, becoming uneasy at the icy stare that was coming from the ginger.

Eloise was beside Mycroft, grinning at the display, clearly pleased that the posh boy could handle himself and her brother at the same time.

The Head Boy was about to retort once more when Jean Lestrade walked out from the kitchen phone pressed to his ear. "Yes, Mrs. Andrews. Your son is right here but he seems to be having a problem placing his order. Something about insisting on insulting my son's boyfriend who was kind enough to help us during our busiest day." There was a pause and the boy was visibly growing pale. "Why yes I can put him on the phone."

Andrews took the phone trepidatiously. Why was his mother calling? She wouldn't be pleased to hear what was going on.

Refusing to shift back to a more pleasant stance, Mycroft didn't break character, appearing ice cold and powerful. He looked uncaringly at Andrews as he took the phone, looking nervous. He hoped that the unpleasant boy's mother could put him back in his place, though he did think it unlikely the boy would attack Mycroft again, although he knew he could hold his own.

All anyone in the storefront could hear was yelling from the other side of the phone. "Yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am. Right. Yes. Of course."  

Andrews handed back the phone to Jean Lestrade. "I apologize for my behaviour and my mum would like to know if she can place the order via telephone so I can begin my grounding?"

Jean handed the phone to Mycroft and looked at the boy. "It won't be a problem. Also Andrews, don't come back here again," he warned, and watched the boy walk out of the store in a hurry.

Mycroft took the phone, and resumed his amicable state. "Hello, Mrs Andrews. Yes, of course I can take your order. Thank you very much, ma'am.”

Once Mycroft hung up the phone Eloise walked over. "You do scary really well. Also it’s weird how you change your voice from fierce to polite that quickly." She worried her lip a bit, "I'm sorry you had to deal with that by the way."

"It's alright,” he assured her. “It's strange though. In the wizarding world, no one really has a problem with homosexuality. It has been long accepted so it feels bizarre to come into a world where it is still seen as wrong," he said sadly.

The pair went back to their work and once some time had passed the the storefront had hit a bit of a lull, Eloise nervously asked Mycroft a question. "Mycroft I was wondering. If its alright with you that is. Can I go with you and Greg to London tomorrow?"

"Sure, I suppose. I mean, check with Greg, but I do not see why not." He liked Eloise, much to his surprise. She was kind and spunky, and she obviously loved Greg.

Without a second though she hugged the ginger in thanks and ran off to the back of the kitchen to talk to Greg.

Mycroft smiled after her, turning his attention to the next customer, noticing how much he enjoyed working here and being a small part of the Lestrade family.


	32. Casablanca

Once the shop closed up for the evening, Greg decided he wanted to relax by taking a night on the town.

"Myc, do you want to go to the cinema?"

"Alright," he agreed, curious to see what the fuss was really about. "Do you want to take the bike?"

"I do, but I only have the one helmet and you aren't riding on it without one."

"Let me see the helmet," Mycroft gestured, "and then go away for a moment so I can duplicate it."

Pulling out his wand, he gestured and mumbled a few words, and soon there were two identical helmets side by side. Walking back over, Greg slipped the new helmet onto his head and ensured Mycroft's was on correctly. Soon he was saddled on the bike, and felt Mycroft wrap his arms around his waist.

"Hold on love,” Greg called out before hitting the gas, causing it to roar, and took off to the cinema.

Mycroft decided that this might be one of the best ways to travel. He could feel the wind blowing at him, and threw his arms out, laughing. "This is incredible!" he shouted, holding onto Greg with his knees and at that moment, Greg was certain life couldn't get any better.

They pulled up to the cinema and Greg parked the bike. Looking at the marquee the theatre had two classics running, Pulp Fiction and Casablanca. "Alright Myc, which do you want to see for your first film?"

"I don't know anything about either film. You choose," he said as he pulled his wallet out, "but I'll pay. Consider it a late birthday gift."

"You got me a gift, remember? But fine, you can pay." Greg walked over the the window and asked for two tickets to see Casablanca.

"Just keep in mind, the film is in black and white, but nowadays most films are in colour. Also the gents in the film with the funny uniforms are Nazis."

“Nazis?" he repeated, trying out the unfamiliar word. "Is that good or bad?"

"Nazi's were these people during WWII, I know you know what that is because the bombing affected the wizarding world as well, who were part of the German army but aside from invading countries and being overall wankers, they tried to eradicate everyone who was Jewish, along with other groups of people they didn't deem worth." Greg knows they covered some of this in History of Magic, but just the stuff that affected the wizarding world.

"Oh. Like the second wizarding war," he realized, comparing them to the death eaters wiping out muggleborns. "That wasn't mentioned at all," he said horrified.

"Yeah most wizard's were able to protect themselves during that time so we don't see a lot about it in the books at Hogwarts. But it was just like the second wizarding war."

Walking them into the theatre, Greg stopped at the counter to get some popcorn and as he turned around with the large bag of salty goodness, Mycroft raised an eyebrow at the muggle snack, but reached out to try some anyways and grinned in delight.

"What is it?"

"It's popcorn. All it is is popped corn kernels with butter and salt."

Greg ushered Mycroft into a seat towards the centre back of the cinema. The lights dimmed and the previews started and that's when Mycroft got wide-eyed. He had seen moving pictures, of,course, but nothing like this. It was incredible, the way they moved so quickly, giving hints at stories.

The movie cued up and the theatre is transported to Casablanca, Morocco in Rick's Cafe. The enigmatic Humphrey Bogart appears on screen and there is more whiskey and smoke than people can handle nowadays. Mycroft stared, entranced. He thought it was all just amazing, and he took the scene in with wonder.

Greg placed this arm around Mycroft's shoulder. Ilsa walks into the bar, Rick's former girlfriend and the love of his life, but she comes with her husband. Greg mouths the famous line with Bogart "Of all the gin joints of all the towns in all the world, she had to walk into mine."

Mycroft smiled at that. "You know the movie well, then," he whispered. His eyes were still glued to the screen. Greg hummed an assent. The two stayed quiet through the rest of the film with Greg occasionally mouthing dialog. When the lights came back on Greg looked over at Mycroft, "What did you think?"

"Bloody fantastic," Mycroft said in awe. "I've never seen anything like it, it's amazing!"

This made Greg laugh. "We go to a school for magic, Myc, yet you find this amazing."

"For me, the magic is ordinary, everyday. This is new and exciting, completely different," Mycroft explained, and Greg could see the reasoning behind that.

The boys were headed back to the motorbike when someone shouted, "Hey Lestrade, we heard you were back in town, but we weren't aware you were bringing your girlfriend." The pair turned around to see William Andrews, the boy who had caused trouble at the shop earlier, and a few more boys that looked rugby sized.

Mycroft growled, recognizing the teen from the shop earlier. Of course the buggering idiot would show up now. Still, he hoped they could avoid trouble. "I thought we discussed this, Andrews," he said, shifting back into his cold persona.

Greg look between the groups nervously. "What's going on and how do you know Andrews?" Greg asked and started to walk over to the group of boy's he ordinarily called friends, but Mycroft grabbed Greg’s wrist to keep him from walking forward.

"Careful,” he whispered, and explained that “Andrews paid a visit to the shop today," Mycroft said coldly. "We shared some words, and I'm fairly certain we came to an agreement."

"Myc its fine I know these guys," he was about to continue forward until he saw how stern Mycroft looked.

"Greg," Mycroft warned. "They aren't your friends." He didn't want Greg to get hurt, especially not by people he knew. He felt his wand, heavy in his pocket, but he also didn't want to be sent to Azkaban.

Andrews yelled, "Lestrade you're gonna let your girlfriend keep telling you what to do."

Greg look confused at the slight and walked forward past Mycroft not understanding what was going on. "Why do you keep calling him my girlfriend? He's clearly a boy." Greg deadpanned.

Andrews narrowed his eyes and grinned sardonically, "Yeah, but we reckoned he's the one who likes to get buggered."

Greg stopped in his tracks. "This is because he's my boyfriend? What's it to you?"

Andrews moved closer into Greg's space, "Nothing except the pouf got me in trouble with my mum and made our best forward bent."

Seeing the situation before him have the potential for escalation, Mycroft stepped between them. "That's enough," he said, voice cold as ice and powerful. "This is your last warning; leave, or you'll regret it." There was no question he was deadly serious.

Glaring at Mycroft with what he assumed to be an empty threat, Andrews made to punch Mycroft, but Greg stepped in taking the blow instead. Greg landed on the ground, with blood running from his mouth, but quickly wiped it off and got up and lunged at Andrews bringing him to the ground. He got one good swing at his face before his other two friends came to his side, one kicking Greg in the ribs.

Mycroft didn't even get a chance to pull out his wand out; magic exploded from him in his anger, blasting the boys away from Greg when he screamed, "Enough!" His voice seemed to echo with power. He stood over Greg like a protective shield, eyes fiery as he looked at the men who had hurt his lover.

No longer feeling the kicks and punches, Greg rolled over and saw the three boys blows several feet away from him, and deeming it safe,  got up from the ground carefully and walked over towards Mycroft. Seeing his boyfriend begin to rise, Mycroft walked over to help him stand, before stalking over to Andrews who was bleeding from a cut to his head on the ground.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't end you now," he growled. He could get away with it, he thought. He had the money and the power, and the determination after all. His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet plea.

"Myc, please, lets just go home," he begged, seeing the murderous look in Mycroft’s eyes. "Please just let them go," Greg whispered kissing his cheek.

Mycroft breathed out slowly, nodding. "Yes. Thank you, Gregory." He knew he would have regretted it if he had gone too far. Finally, he removed his eyes from the group of thugs, and turned away, eyes softening when they fell on Greg. He looked awful. His eye was swollen shut, and lip was split. He clutched his rib and seemed to not be standing with his full weight on one leg.

"You think you can apparate the motorbike and us back or should we just grab it tomorrow?" the younger boy asked, trying not to focus on his injuries.

"I can do it," Mycroft nodded, feeling that his magic was still simmering near the surface, stronger from the emotions of the night.

Greg limped over to the bike carefully, with Mycroft holding onto him.

"We're in trouble aren't we?"

"Probably. I used magic on muggles. Unintentionally and without a wand, but I did it. There will be some trouble over it. I only hope your trace didn't catch it. No letter yet, though, so there's hope for that."

Nodding at the explanation, Greg grabbed onto Mycroft and tried to get onto the bike but winced and hissed in pain. "I think we need to get home soon. I think they broke a rib," he grimaced.

Unable to stop himself from hissing angrily, Mycroft propped up Greg against the saddle and pulled out his wand. "Episkey!" he mumbled and fixed the rib, knowing if he was already in trouble there was little more they could do for this.

"Myc, we do have doctor's here you know...they could have fixed it," Greg sighed.

The redhead shrugged. "That was faster, hurt less, and frankly, it can't have made things worse. I'm of age, there were no muggles present. It will be fine."

Taking Greg's arm and placing another hand on the motorbike, Mycroft apparated them back to the Lestrade home. 


	33. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of the fight make themselves known

They landed outside of Greg's house and slowly made their way through the front door. Limping over the threshold wit the help of Mycroft, the boys encountered what was now a rather startled Eloise.

"What the hell happened?" she yelled, walking over to her brother and his boyfriend.

“Andrews," Mycroft said grimly. "I tried to stop them, and I do not think they shall be back for more, but I was not fast enough to stop this," he said, angry at himself.

"I'll go get the first aid kit," Eloise said running off as Greg walked to the couch and collapsed on it.

"Myc, come here,” he gestured and pulled Mycroft down so he could lay his head in his lap. Looking up to see the worry in his boyfriend’s eyes Greg lifted a hand and ran it over his cheek.

"I'm fine love. I did this to myself. I was protecting that gorgeous face of yours. Besides they are probably worse off than me...you sort of blasted them into the sides of buildings and cars."

Unable to look at his partner, Mycroft kept his eyes focused on the wall across from them. "I should have taken better care of you," he muttered, "and I know what I did. They deserved it, the bigoted arses."

"Myc, I was there. I jumped in front of you. You did everything you could except prevent me from being an idiot."

Mycroft nodded, but still felt somewhat guilty. "All the same," he muttered, "if it were not for me they would not have gone after you in the first place. They were your friends from football. Were they not?"

"Emphasis on the were, love. And what do you mean if it wasn't for you?"

"Well, if you had not brought me home, they would not know and they would still be your friends. And you would not have gotten hurt," he explained looking pained, knowing his logical was irrational, but couldn't help it.

"They weren't my friends to begin with if they act like this. Besides, I'd do it a hundred times over again if it meant you were still mine Myc," Greg murmured grabbing Mycroft's hand to kiss.

Soon, all three Lestrades walked into the living room - Grace carrying the first aid kit looking worried with Eloise behind her, ice bag in hand. Jean Lestrade didn't look worried so much as angry.

Sitting up carefully to explain as ease his parents, Greg held up a hand and said, "don't worry Mycroft fixed the broken rib...oh and there might be wizards showing up eventually."

"I'm sorry, sir," Mycroft added as soon as Greg finished, looking nervously at Jean. "I tried, I really did, but I could not stop it," he murmured, and waited for Jean to be angry with him, trying not to think about the law enforcement wizards that would be on the doorstep any minute.

Jean looked at Mycroft confused. "I'm not mad at you Mycroft, I'm mad at the bloody situation. Plight of small town living I suppose, but why will there be wizards on my doorstep," he asked, while Grace moved past him to fuss with Greg's face, cleaning his cut lip and the bruise forming around his ribs from the mended break.

"Mum, that stings quite a bit ya know..." he hissed.

"Sometimes, when a witch or wizard has strong enough emotions, accidental magic happens. And I may have accidentally used magic on three muggles. Which happens to be illegal. But I am hoping to get off on self defense; it was the two of us against three of them, and we might have been badly hurt otherwise," he explained quickly, looking toward Greg, wanting to make sure he was alright.

"You shoulda seen it Da. One second these three guys were on me, the next they were tossed away from me. Dunno what I'd do without him," Greg smiled, but winced when he realized the cut stretched.

Silence soon took over as Grace was checking both boys, but was soon  broken by a knock at the door.

"And that will be for me," Mycroft said grimly, and stood slowly to walk to the door, feeling as if he were marching to his execution.

Greg got up from the couch and followed Mycroft to the door. "We're in this together love," he stated, and gripped his boyfriend’s hand.

Mycroft smiled at him gratefully, and after a steadying breath, reached for the knob and opened the door to see two ministry officials standing there, law enforcement officials.

"Hello," Mycroft greeted.

"Greetings, I am Edgar Magnus with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and this is my colleague Bastien Wiggleswade with the Accidental Magic Reversal Department. We are looking for Mycroft Percival Holmes and the guardian of Gregory Francois Lestrade."

"I'm Mycroft Holmes. Gregory's parents are just inside," he stated, and hoped he hadn't gotten Greg into trouble as well. Leading the officials inside to where the Lestrade family was waiting, Mycroft needed to assure the men of Greg’s noninvolvement.

"I assure you, whatever his trace may have picked up, he performed no magic," he quickly asserted, but was cut off by Jean stepping forward in between the officials and the boys.

"Boys, please sit down," the elder Lestrade said firmly, and the boys both obeyed. Mycroft, however, wondered what was going to happen next, and though about requesting a formal hearing to give him time to sort through all of this.

"Gentlemen, both these boys are my responsibility so I'll handle anything you need," Jean stated before the men could speak.

“Sir, Mister Holmes is of age so you need not worry about his matters," replied Magnus, causing Jean Lestrade to glare at the wizard.

"I shall worry about any matters regarding this family and Mycroft Holmes is apart of this family."

Mycroft was startled by this proclamation. "Sir," he began hesitantly, "I do not want to cause you any trouble...I am honoured that you think so highly of me, but I could not dream of dragging you all into this."

Jean Lestrade held out his hand signalling Mycroft to sit down, and the two men recognized the tone of the conversation ahead, but decided to push forward.

"Nonetheless, magic has been done, and on a group of muggles. The muggles' memories will be wiped of the event, and there must be an upholding of the law. Mr. Holmes will receive a perfectly fair trial where he may plead for self defence,." Magnus said sternly.

"From what I understand my boys were out at the cinema when they were jumped by three muggle boys. While the three of them did a number on my Gregory, Mycroft got a bit angry, understandably if you can see the state of my son, and accidentally forced the boys out of the way with uncontrolled magic. Then, they jumped back here and Mycroft kindly fixed my son's broken rib. So, if any of this seems illegal to you, I will be more than happy to call the muggle police and have them investigate it as a hate crime. But then I believe that will cause three boys to tell the police that they were magically pushed away, and that's going to lead to a lot of non-magical people becoming suspicious."

Impressed was an understatement for what Mycroft was feeling at that moment - Jean Lestrade was threatening the magical law enforcement without a care.  

"Mister Holmes will be let off with a warning,” Jean continued. “Judging by the fact that there are only two of you and this is a minor infraction, I'm assuming it's his first offence. Moreover, he's the bloody head boy at Hogwarts and if that doesn't say model young wizard to you I'm not sure what does. Besides I'm sure a certain Headmistress McGonagall wouldn't take too kindly to you detaining her pupil as I'm sure she would see fit to reprimand him as it is still the school year."

"He is also a Slytherin," the official countered. After the war, Slytherin house had been treated by many as if they had all been death eaters, regardless of generation. "Frankly, Mr. Lestrade, I don't see why you think you can tell me what to do." Still, the enforcer realized that Jean was right, at least in part. He would have gotten off with a warning at a trial anyways. He glared Jean down, before making a concession. "He will get off with a warning and have his wand confiscated until the school term resumes. At school, he is to use no magic outside of class. A modified trace will be put on it to make sure the rules are followed. Am I clear, Mr Holmes?"

Mycroft nodded, relieved. Being without his wand would be like losing a limb, but it was temporary and better than the alternative.

Jean, however, was not keen on the tone the officer was using. "I'm not of the opinion I can tell you what to do, however, I did read through the rather lofty amount of student manuals my son is in possession of, as well as the materials they give muggle parents, so I'm not ignorant of the law. Additionally, I'll be writing your supervisor about the lovely comment you made about Mycroft's house. Sounds a bit bias to me, don't you," he said with a smirk.

"You can do what you wish, Mr. Lestrade, but these are Mr. Holmes' terms, and only he can accept or refuse them. If you refuse, you will have a trial; you would be held in custody until such time as the trial is completed. If you accept my terms, please surrender your wand. It will be returned to you by post on the first day of term."

Mycroft glanced round at the Lestrade family before nodding, taking his wand out and handing it over.

"I accept,your terms," he said formally.

Once the wand was in the officer's hands, both men apparated out of the room.

Greg stared at his dad in disbelief. "You just stared down ministry officials Da."  

Jean shrugged, "Anything for my boys.”

"Thank,you, sir," Mycroft said sincerely. "Your support means the world to me," he stated softly.

"You're a good kid Mycroft. I'm not going to let some wankers bully you because you protected Greg. And please, stop calling me sir. I meant it when I said you are a part of this family, and family doesn't call each other sir."

"What do you prefer I call you?" Mycroft asked, not entirely sure what the protocol here was. He called his own father sir, after all.

"And, thank you. For calling me family. It-it means rather a lot to me," he confessed, especially since he was likely about to be thrown out by his own after this news reached them

"Just call me Jean please. Alright lads bedtime," the elder man yawned and headed to his room.

Once alone, Mycroft glanced at Greg in a stunned stupor.

"I- " he didn't know what to say. "Your family... they're amazing. I've never-" he began but stopped to kiss Greg gently.

"It will all work out, won't it?" he sighed, against Greg’s lips.

"Yeah it will be fine. Ten days without a wand must be rough but you'll be fine, Greg yawned, leaning on Mycroft, not wanting to move from the sofa.

After some moments of silence, Greg looked up and saw a his boyfriend was still a bit stunned. "You alright love?"

"Yes," he murmured. "It just- I still can't believe it. Your family was so kind to me, I never expected to be included like that," he admitted.

"Isn't that what families do?"

"Family," Mycroft repeated. "I didn't expect to find a family here," he smiled serenely.

Greg's heart broke at the sight of his boyfriend so happy. He realized just how much Mycroft had been a trophy son, someone to show off and present but no one took the time so tell him something so simple as 'I love you' or 'good job'.

"It's not perfect but its yours if you want it," he offered.

"You are ever so wonderful, my love," he murmured happily. He thought that money or not, Greg was the most lucky boy he knew. He had this family, a wonderful group of people; a life, one he enjoyed. "There is nothing I would love more than to be a part of this family."

"Well that's good because Eli always wanted another brother," Greg grinned happily, and walked off to bed with the ginger in tow. 


	34. London Calling

The next morning brought Greg a sore rib and a smarting mouth, but it was worth it because he knew just how far Mycroft was willing to go to keep him safe.

"Morning Myc, London today?"

Mycroft blinked at him blearily, still half asleep. "Morning. You sure you feel up for it?," he asked allowing his formal speech to slip a bit with Gregory, without even really noticing.

Propping himself up, he noticed Greg's posture, indicating he obviously felt some pain from the day before, and couldn't help but feel some guilt.

"Yeah, no use dwelling on it, besides Eli would be disappointed, and I do not want to deal with that."

"Alright then.When do you want to go?" he asked kissing Greg's cheek and rolling out of bed.

"I figured we could hit up a few markets seeing as I need to get gifts for the family, and Eli will most likely drag us into Hyde Park at night for the lights."

"Brilliant. I need to find things for your family, as well," he mused. He had already ordered Greg's gift, luckily, and had kept it hidden at the bottom of his trunk.

The boys walked out of the room dressed for the day. Greg in boots, jeans, and another band shirt with long sleeved shirt underneath and Mycroft in trousers, button-down and waistcoat. Greg figured he was without this wand so he was trying to not feel so naked.

Once dressed and ready the pair walked into the kitchen where Eloise was dressed and ready.

Taking in the sight of the two boys, she giggled at the two of them, opposite yet compatible. "You two look so different sometimes," she grinned.

Mycroft smiled at her, safer in the armour the more formal clothes provided. He felt oddly vulnerable, even though he really hadn't used his wand since arriving. He looked himself and Greg over, realizing that they really must seem so strange together. Still, he wouldn't change it for the word.

Grace entered the kitchen with a camera in her hand. "Everybody looks so nice for their outing I see. Your father has the car ready but I wanted to snap a photo before you all left as a nice reminder of the holidays."

Greg moaned embarrassed, "Mum seriously..."

"Go on, I don't mind," Mycroft said, nudging Greg playfully with a smile, and wrapped an arm around Greg to hold him there. He wanted to indulge in all the little family things that he would be offered, as each was a new experience for him

Eloise pushed herself in between the two of them. "I'm the girl. I go between my brothers."

Grace smiled and snapped the photo. "Now this won't be as nice as that moving photo of you dancing, but I'll be sure to send you a copy when I get them developed."

"Thank you, ma'am," Mycroft said, planning to keep and treasure that photograph.

"Call me Grace dear," she said warmly. "Alright off you go. Behave and stay safe!"

The three teens walked outside to find the elder Lestrade waiting in the car. Greg took the front while Mycroft and Eloise took the back.

"I'll drop you by the heavy rail station and I'll get you around midnight. Behave yourselves."

Mycroft nodded with the other two teenagers, excited to go into London. He had been many times before, of course, but only in the magical districts, his parents refusing to mingle with the muggles.

***

After a lengthy train ride, the teens got off at one of the many London Christmas markets. The place was covered in baked goods, great food and drinks, knick knacks and more. Mycroft stared in wonder. It was beautiful, all the handcrafted gifts, holiday music playing softly in the background.

"This is incredible," he breathed, taking it all in, the sights, smells and sounds.

"I thought you'd been to London," Eloise asked.

"Yes, the wizarding part. There's a Christmas market, but it's smaller, and my parents always considered it a waste of time. I never went."

The three wandered around for a better part of the morning wandering from stall to stall. Greg came across an area of cooking supplies and utensils and thought it would be a good place to find something for his mother. Mycroft found a hand-made kit for shaping cookies, beautiful and practical. He smiled, buying it for Mrs. Lestrade, but wondered how he would buy Eloise's gift without her seeing.

As the shopkeeper was handing Mycroft back his change when she asked, "That's a lovely gift. I have one at home myself and its come in handy. Who's it for dear?"

"My boyfriend's mother," he gestured towards Greg. "They've let me stay over for the holidays, and I wanted to get something to thank them."

The shopkeeper smiled, "He's a handsome one. Good on you," she winked causing Mycroft to smile gratefully, glad to see that some of the muggles weren't as bigoted as Andrews and the butcher had been.

Finally finding where his boyfriend ran off to, Greg walked over to Mycroft and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. "I sent Eloise to get us some pastries for later, so that should keep her occupied for a bit so we can get her gifts."

"Good. Have you got any ideas?"

"No bloody clue. I was never a fourteen year old girl."

"Neither," Mycroft said hopelessly. "I don't trust myself to get clothes or makeup or anything like that."

"Does she even wear makeup? Gods I hope not," Greg groaned.

The two boys wandered around the stall throwing ideas back and forth and eventually Eloise saw them fretting and decided to put them out of their misery.  

"Give it up boy, and just take me shopping," she teased, sneaking up behind them.

“Yes, please. We are awful at this,” Greg stated with rlief that caused Eloise to laugh at her brother and his other half. Leading them to a stall with various vintage decorations and knick knacks, she stood in front of her desired item. "This is what I want," she declared, pointing to the record player.

Confused, Mycroft inspected it. "What is it?" It was now old enough that they didn't cover it in muggle studies anymore.

"It's a record player silly."

"Oh," Mycroft said, still not entirely sure but nodding anyways. "Alright." He looked at the price and fished out the money to buy it.

Greg looked at him with a smirk. "You have no idea what it does do you?"

"Not a clue," Mycroft admitted with a shrug. "How do you play a written recording of an event? I do not but apparently she does."

Eloise guffawed at Mycroft statement, earning her a look from her brother. Walking towards the bins in the back, Greg flipped through a few albums until he found a Sinatra record. He held up the black vinyl to show Mycroft, and placed it on the turntable. Carefully placing the needle on the third track, Greg switched on the machine and "Fly me to the Moon" started to come out of the speakers. "Recognise the song?"

Within the first few beats Mycroft was instantly taken back to their dance. "Oh," he breathed, "It plays music."  Staring at the device Mycroft nodded to answer Greg’s question. It was their song, of course he recognized it. "In the great hall," he murmured, before looking up at the younger boy, with a warm smile.

Uncaring of who was watching, Greg grabbed Mycroft and began to lead his around, dancing like they did the first time. Eloise started giggling at the sight of her brother leading around his poshly dressed boyfriend in the middle of the Christmas market, but Mycroft just smiled, going along with it. He let Greg lead, just as he had that first time, a soft smile on his face as he remembered. It had been a beautiful evening.

Soon a crowd started to gather around, watching the two boys dance around without a care in the world. When the song finished Greg carefully dipped Mycroft and kissed him. Both boys were soon pulled back to reality by the sounds of cheering and whistles, which caused Mycroft to both simultaneously blush and worry, waiting for someone to attack them for it. After all, that had been how the majority of muggles had reacted so far. Instead when he looked around all he saw were smiles and laughs, which allowed him to smile lovingly at his partner.

"Alright love birds are we going to get the turntable or what?" Eloise asked as she walked over. At the request Mycroft pulled out the money and paid for the record player.

"All yours," he chuckled.

Eloise was beaming and Greg was happy to see her so content. "Pick out a few records and that will be my contribution."

After much deliberation she did, handing them off to her brother. As soon as Greg paid for the records and the three of them began to walk off and noticed a bit of a problem. "Eli, you are going to regret picking out such a heavy gift." She nodded, beginning to realize that. They had to take the train home too so she would be carrying it a long time. In that moment, Mycroft wished he had his wand to make them lighter.

"Eli do you still want to go to Hyde Park or do you want to head home already to place the record player down?"

“I want to go to the park but this thing is heavy, but dad isn't grabbing us until midnight."

Mycroft hesitated before making a suggestion. "I can apparate without a wand, so they can't trace that. I could take it back and return here," he offered.

"You seem to really want to push your luck lately don't you," Greg teased. "Go ahead, just duck somewhere no one can see you."

Mycroft took the record player and found a deserted alley. He closed his eyes, focusing on Greg's room and turning on the spot. There was a loud crack and he was back in the Lestrade house. He put the player on Greg's bed before apparating back to the alley and finding Greg and Eli again.

"Feel better?" Greg asked, knowing Mycroft wanted to get some magic out of his system.

"Much," he muttered. He was capable of some small wandless magic, which would make this bearable, but all the same, it was a challenge already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact about writing this chapter. The part about Eloise's gift lasted several emails because neither of us knew what a 14 year old girl would want for Christmas.


	35. The Christmas Market

The rest of the day passed without a hitch. Window shopping and eating more street food than one should in a day. As dusk approach the trio headed to Hyde Park to see all the lights surrounding the Christmas Market.

Entranced by the muggle festivities, Mycroft walked close to Greg, pointing and asking for clarification at unfamiliar sights. Eloise walked ahead of the two boys, paying more attention to the lights than the two of them.

"With you ending school this year, have you given any thought to where you're going to live and be?" Greg queried low enough that Eloise couldn’t hear.  

"I have a guaranteed internship in a number of different positions," he explained, since most positions had been offered to him last year. "I will likely take two of them, live in a small flat near the ministry. I will make time on weekends to come for visits, and I will try to make your games, if I can," he suggested, in an effort to placate his boyfriend. It would be hard to fit in, but he did own a time turner.

"I just meant location wise Myc, but it's nice that you've included me in all of that. Do you think I could visit you in the summer?" he asked, still confounded by the fact that Mycroft was willing to entertain the relationship past the year’s end.

"Of course, you would be more than welcome during any of the holidays," Mycroft reassured him. "We can choose a place together, if you wish, after both of us are done school, but until then I wish to be near the ministry for convenience sake."

Greg stopped walking and he felt his heartbeat sped up. "You want me to move in with you one day?"

"Sorry- too soon?" Mycroft fretted. He knew what he wanted, but he supposed he had never actually asked Gregory. And he realised that while he planned his life years in advance, most people would be scared off by a proclamation like that.

"No, I just, I'm always stunned when I find out you're willing to include me in your future after only a few months together. I'm always afraid I'm not going to fit in so I don't get my hopes up. I know you love me Myc, but I guess I'm still convinced you're going to find something better."

Stopping in his steps, Mycroft pulled Greg toward him and kissed him hard, not caring who saw. "Gregory, I have my entire future planned out to the last detail, but I would throw it all away to keep you," he said with conviction. "There is nothing I want more. Now, when I plan my future, you are irrevocably a part of it, and you will be until you tell me to leave."

"I will never figure out what you see in me, aside from a bloody good shag love," he said half-joking, kissing Mycroft back.

Mycroft stepped back with a frown. "Gregory, do you really not see it? You are kind, and generous. You have passions, and talents, and you are always there to help someone in need. You are incredibly good looking, yes, but that is not all there is to you."

“I'm just being silly, sorry," he sighed with a smile, having let his self-consciousness get the best of him.

***

The rest of the night carried on with the trio stopping for fish and chips. As they continued their jaunt Mycroft stole Greg's chips with a playful smirk, eating them dramatically with a wink, which caused Greg to laugh, amused by his own inappropriate thoughts.

Catching Greg's eye, Mycroft chuckled and leaned in to say, "Maybe when we get home, love," he whispered with a wink.

"Sorry, I just love watching you eat for some reason. It's probably because I know the obscene things you can do with your mouth," he replied.

At that moment Eloise walked back towards the boys, "I did not need to hear that," she said with disgust and it caused Mycroft to instantly turned bright red, not having noticed Eloise until too late.

"Sorry," he squeaked, mortified.

Greg, eager to turn the conversation away from Mycroft's mouth clapped and exclaimed, "Head to the tube now?"

Both teens nodded, and soon they were at the nearest tube stop, headed home.

***

On the ride back on the train the three sat together with Eloise in the middle, who passed out on Greg's shoulder. Midway through the ride though her head made its way onto Mycroft. Seeing where his sister moved to, Greg whispered, "Sorry, let me see if I can get her to move back."

Mycroft shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders affectionately. "It's fine." He didn't mind she was family, after all - an idea that still blew his mind.

Eloise feeling the arm around her curled in closer to Mycroft. The whole situation made Greg simply happy. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, Myc"

"I know. I can't quite believe it," he said with disbelief. "It's almost Christmas," he grinned and thought about Greg's present, hidden away in his trunk.

"The shop is going to be chaos tomorrow with people picking up orders. You alright to pitch in?" he asked, trying to ignore the fact that the bloody owl with Mycroft's gift had yet to come in.

"Yes, of course," Mycroft agreed, always ready to help out with the shop. He assumed they wouldn't have him in the kitchen.

"Don't worry, not much baking to be done tomorrow," Greg teased, and turned to look out the window knowing they still had a bit to go.

***

The train finally pulled up to their station and Mycroft gently woke Eloise.

"Hmm? Oh, we're here. Sorry I fell asleep on you," she mumbled.

Ignoring her apology, Mycroft just got her things and helped her off the train. "No problem, Eloise."

The trio saw the elder Lestrade waiting with the car. Again Greg sat in the front with Mycroft and Eloise in the back with their purchases. As the car began to drive Eloise began to drift off again. Mycroft moved his arm over her shoulder and shifted her to rest on him. Greg saw the scene from the rear view mirror and couldn't help but grin. Mycroft smiled back, fond of this girl. Greg's sister, and by some miracle, now his as well. The car pulled up to the house and everyone unloaded with Greg and Mycroft carrying all the purchases. The boys walked to their room and Greg collapsed onto the bed.


	36. Promises, Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. No other point to this chapter but smut.

Mycroft stripped to his boxers, too tired to find pyjamas, and collapsed into bed next to Greg. "I know I made a promise at the chip place, but maybe that's best put off to tomorrow," he mumbled, half asleep already.

Turning his head to see his boyfriend in nothing but boxers, Greg couldn't help but stare. "Myc you can't say something like that and climb into bed in nothing but pants," Greg purred, running his hand over Mycroft's bum.

The ginger jumped a bit, looking at Greg in surprise but soon leaned into the touch. "Is that so? And what would you recommend I do about that?" he asked, and soon found himself being pulled on top of his boyfriend and being kissed.

"I'd say stop being so good looking but that isn't possible," Greg growled, pressing his erection into Mycroft's groin

"Oh-" Mycroft breathed, hips moving instinctively to prolong to friction.

"I'm sorry love,  I should let you sleep," Greg said cheekily.

"Oh, don't you dare," the older boy growled, leaning down to kiss Greg hard, nipping at his lower lip, one hand tangled in his hair.

Greg rolled his hips again, grabbing onto Mycroft's arse. "Have I told you how much I love your arse. It's so bloody grabable."

"Gregory-" he breathed, lowering his head to suck and nip at Greg's neck.

"Myc I think I'm wearing too much clothing. What do you think?"

"Yes, absolutely yes," he agreed and scrambled to remove Greg's clothing, shaking fingers fumbling with buttons.

Once Greg was down to nothing but pants he laid back to enjoy the view of his boyfriend straddling his hips, sitting above him. He ran his hands over the pale, freckled covered skin of Mycroft's chest, "I will never get over how gorgeous you are," he whispered, causing Mycroft to flush.

The ginger was hardly able to believe this incredible man was beneath him and shivered at the light touch. Somehow, Greg allowed him to let go of control, and he loved it. He could just react naturally, and by Merlin, his reactions made themselves known. He leaned down, tracing a line of kisses down his chest. "I do believe I made you a promise in the market today," he rumbled.

"Yes I believe you promised to do rather obscene things with your mouth" Greg moaned, feeling his prick straining in his pants.

Mycroft slowly lowered Greg's pants, hot breath ghosting over Greg's sensitive length. "I suppose I had better oblige," he breathed, "I am a man of my word, after all," he continued as his lips brushed just lightly against the tip. Flicking his tongue across Greg's glans he slowly began to take him inch by inch. He had been getting better at this, and could now take him all the way in, learning to suppress the gag reflex completely.

Greg tried to stifle a moan not wanting to alert the household to his boyfriends talents. Running his hands through Mycroft's hair he gripped it before thrusting up a bit more. Mycroft just smirked around him, swallowing hard and wrapping his tongue around Greg's shaft. He loved the feel of Gregory's hands in his hair and his cock down his throat; he had never imagined this could be so good.

"M-Myc I need you to..." Greg couldn't form the sentence,  his brain was focused on the sight of his boyfriend deep throating him

Mycroft grinned, pulling off. "What do you need, Gregory?" he asked, voice low and smooth. "Do you need me to fuck myself on your prick, and ride you until we both scream?" He had never said something so sexual, and nearly blushed at the words, but it was too late to take them back so he just went along with it.

Greg nearly came at the words coming out of Mycroft's mouth. There was something arousing about that man who was usually so proper saying such filthy things. "Mycroft if you keep talking like that I'm not going to last."

Mycroft did flush then, but took to hint and grabbed the lube and was soon slicking his fingers  to open himself up for Greg.

"Watch me, Gregory, preparing myself for you, this is what you do to me," he said hoarsely, gasping for breath. "You make me so desperate for you." Mycroft gasped and moaned as he thrust three fingers in and out, opening himself up for Greg. His head fell back, eyes closed and lips parted in pleasure.

Unable to take the teasing anymore, Greg grabbed the freckled hips and begged Mycroft to ride him.

Sinking down on Greg slowly, Mycroft cried out as he was soon filled. Greg nearly lost it at the feeling of heat that enveloped and the muscles contracting around his prick. Once composed he drank in the sight of his lover impaled upon his length, wantonly losing his composure. Greg thrust himself further into Mycroft watching him come undone.

***

After recovering from their romp and showering, the pair lay in bed, curled around each other, warm and sleepy.

"I love you so much," Greg murmured against Mycroft’s neck.

smiling into his pillow Mycroft yawned his reply. "I love you too."

“We’ve got a busy day tomorrow...good night Myc.”

“Good night my Gregory.”


	37. Christmas Morning

The next day the shop was full of people picking up orders. Greg helped out with last minute items in the kitchen while Eloise and Mycroft manned the front. Mycroft was quickly getting a hang on what it was he needed to do, and he soon had an efficient system going, getting everyone their goods. He hoped they could make it through incident free, unlike the last time he had been working at the front.

Greg popped out of the shop mid afternoon when his mother said a package came for him. Greg breathed a sigh of relief - Mycroft's gift finally came in. The rest of the day went by without incident and around 6pm the shop was closed.

Mycroft smiled in relief; it had been a busy day, and he had missed Greg, having gotten used to constantly having him around. He thought of the gift, hidden upstairs, and smiled.

When Eloise locked up the shop she dragged Mycroft to the bakery's kitchen where everyone was gathered around what seemed to be a lump of dough. Grace explained that every Christmas eve they made cookies for father Christmas,  even after the kids stopped believing. Beside the dough were cookie cutters and various items for decorating. Mycroft grinned, pleased to be included in this tradition. It sounded like fun, and the father Christmas story amused him. The wizarding world had a very different story, and he found he preferred this one.

After the cookies were decorated and left out everyone went to bed excited for the next morning.

***

The morning came and both boys found themselves tangled in each others limbs, with Mycroft pressed against Greg’s back. As the ginger stirred, he smiled into the crook of the younger man’s neck and kissed it gently.

Greg rolled over lazily on top of Mycroft, kissing him awake. “Happy Christmas love,” he whispered.

Mycroft leaned up to return the good morning kiss, and replying into Greg’s lips and equally sleepy Christmas greeting.

Eventually the two boys got out of bed and walked out to find Jean Lestrade laying out a feast of crepes on the dining room table. "Happy Christmas boys. Breakfast then gifts," he smiled, kissing his son on his head.

Mycroft nodded, taking his place next to Greg at the table - it all looked incredible.

Soon Eloise stumbled from her room. “Morning family, happy Christmas," she cheered and went to the kitchen to hug her parents and returned to the table giving Mycroft and Greg each a big hug.

Breakfast was finished quickly as everyone was eager to get to the gift exchange portion of the morning, and as soon as Eloise was done she bolted from the table to sort everyone’s gifts into piles and  put on some music with her new record player.

Getting up from the table and walking over to the living room, Mycroft was surprised to see a pile of gifts for himself. He hadn't really expected to be getting very much, if anything at all, and the small mound surprised him. He had gotten gifts for everyone else, of course, and they were piled under the tree, but he was touched to be so included in everything the Lestrade family did.

The order in the Lestrade household for opening gifts started with the parents. Jean Lestrade received from his wife a new cologne and some contraption for yard work none of the children were quite certain on. Eloise had gotten him a new apron for the bakery - she had embroidered it herself at school. Greg bought his dad a new flambe burner for the kitchen. As for Mycroft, he had ordered Jean via owl a self-cleaning kit for the bakery ovens.

"Mycroft you are going to have to show me how this works, but if it does what I think it will, you have just bought me a few hours of extra sleep each week," Jean chortled, excited by the prospect of a self cleaning kitchen.

Grace Lestrade followed. Her husband surprised her with a simple pearl pendant necklace and Eloise a unique purse made from recycled materials she found at the Christmas market. Greg got his mother a set of funky printed kitchen gloves for cleaning and a framed photo of his Quidditch team. Grace opened Mycroft's gift of a DIY cookie cutter frame and smiled, "Oh dear this is lovely. There are always shapes I'm interested in making, but the catalogs just never seem to have what I need. Thank you Mycroft," she beamed and walked over and gave all her children (Mycroft included) a kiss on the cheek.

The older teen chuckled happily, blushing at the kiss, and showed Jean how to start each item in the cleaning kit. He was glad he had chosen his gifts well and sat there wondering who would go next.

Eloise started up. She told her parents where the record player came from and the story of the boys dancing too. Greg threw some wrapping paper at her, "Eli, seriously!" Her brother’s embarrassment just made her laugh harder. Her parents gave her a new messenger bag for school and several items of clothing. Among them were some band t-shirts, similar to Greg's. The sight made her brother grin, happy she wasn't falling for the crappy pop stuff they played on the radio nowadays.

Greg went next. His mother had made him a scarf, hat, and gloves in Gryffindor colours. Greg also got some clothing from his parents which was good, because he hit a growth spurt earlier in the year and his jeans were a bit too short. Eloise gave him a blank recipe journal she found at the market - Mycroft had told her about his kitchen experimenting - and an ornament of London at Christmastime with the year underneath it. "It's so you two can remember your first Christmas together, because there better be more. I like him to much to get used to another." Greg smiled at the comment and reached for Mycroft's gift to him. He opened the box but looked at it uncertainly.

Mycroft felt suddenly nervous. There was another gift, hidden under his bed, too personal to share with everyone else, which he wanted them to open alone, but this gift was still important. He had gotten the idea from tales of the Marauders, and it was similar to the two-way mirrors, except it had a double function as a miniature pensieve. Inside it, he had already added a few of his own memories, their big firsts together.

"Myc, is this a two way mirror?" Greg held the piece of glass aloft, examining it.

"I have the other one. I enchanted them myself. If you tap it with your wand and say my name, it will connect to mine. If you tap it and say your own name, it's a pensieve. It only holds about ten memories, though, since it's so small." he explained.

Greg was touched beyond belief. Mycroft really did have every intention of staying with him, and this proved it. It was his direct link to Mycroft when he needed him. "Thank you love," Greg said, choking a bit on his emotions.

Leaning over, Mycroft kissed Greg softly, embarrassed in front of his family but unable to resist. "Thank you, Gregory. I want you to call me with that anytime you like, and I'll make my excuses and answer it every time."

Once Greg’s emotions came down it was Mycroft's turn to open gifts. Grace had knit a similar set of winter wear for Mycroft but in his respective house colors. Jean had gotten him a book on simple (muggle) baking recipes when he heard that Greg was giving him lessons in the school kitchen. Eloise grinned as Mycroft pulled out a vintage pocket watch from the box her gift was in. "I thought it would look nice on the waistcoats you always wear. It suits you I think."

Mycroft stood and hugged each of them in thanks. He took his time with each gift, taking in the care with which Grace's gift was made, soft and warm, before thanking Jean warmly for the thought put into his. He was surprised at how well Eloise had found something that suited him so well. He thought it was beautiful, and told her so. He soon came to Greg's gift, and paused, meeting his eyes before opening it slowly.

"It's not a simple brolly I swear!," Greg exclaimed and grabbed the umbrella from the box before Mycroft could, and undid the handle. "You can insert your wand here, and screw it into the base again. I figured it would come in handy when you have to go between worlds for your job. You can't wear robes all the time so I thought this would be handy. I had someone at Ollivander's craft it so it should work properly," Greg  explained nervously and wasn't sure how Mycroft would react to it, especially now without a wand.

"Greg, you are incredible," he breathed, leaning in for a kiss. "This is perfect, love." A piece of evidence that both of them were looking to the future, intending to stay together after school. He only hoped the gift upstairs would go as well.


	38. Christmas Day

After everyone had cleaned up the living room each person went about their day. Jean went to pick up the ham while Grace began Christmas dinner preparation. Eloise closed herself off in her room with her new record player and the boys went back to Greg's room.

Once inside Greg’s room with the door closed Mycroft pulled a small box, about the size of a jewellery box, out of his bag. "I didn't want to give you this in front of your family," he said quietly, handing it to  Greg.

Greg took the box and inspected it. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, until he opened it. "Mycroft..." Greg was speechless.

"I’m going to get a flat, and I’ve got one in mind and I thought... Well, you ought to have a key. It works as a portkey, too, two ways, so you can come visit whenever you like," he explained. The key was small and simple, and it looked rather old. It was on a chain made of silver, forged by goblins so it wouldn't break.

Looking at the tiny key in his hands it washed away any doubt Greg had about his relationship. Mycroft wanted him. A life with him. A flat with him. Time with him. A tear escaped Greg's eye and he couldn't wipe it away before Mycroft noticed.

Mycroft caught the tear and wiped it away. "What's the matter, love?" he asked, hoping he had done the right thing.

Greg threw himself onto Mycroft kissing him with every fibre of his being. "I love you Mycroft, I don't know how to explain it to you. You've taken up a place in the heart and I don't ever want anyone else there. You're perfect in ways I never thought were possible in a person and from the moment I saw you I knew I would do anything to be yours. But this key, i-it, it means you feel the same way I do. Or at least I hope."

Mycroft could feel his own tears at the words. Happy tears, he mused. "Yes, Gregory. I cannot imagine a future without you in it, and I can hardly remember the past before we met. As long as I have you, the rest does not matter so much. You are everything I want and need, Gregory, and I want to share every part of my life with you. We are young, but we are meant to be," he said emphatically.

Laying on his boyfriend, Greg took a few moments to enjoy the closeness before giggling. "You know if it weren't for my parents being awake right now, I'd shag you senseless."

"Maybe we just need to be quiet," he dared, not sure if he wanted Greg to take him up on it or not. The last thing they needed was Greg's parents - or worse, Eli - walking in.

"Myc, I swear you are naughtier than you let on. We best not chance it though, I'd hate for Eli to walk in."

***

With the gift giving out of the way the boys spent the rest of the day helping out around the house when needed, occasionally popping into the kitchen to smell what Mrs. Lestrade was making for dinner. Mycroft was enjoying the holiday, far more than he usually did. He proudly wore his Slytherin scarf as he helped out about the house like the rest of the family. Dinner time came around and Grace laid out the feast while Eloise handed out the Christmas crackers.

Greg turned to Mycroft in explanation. "They are just like the crackers at school except not magical."

Mycroft nodded, tugging at it experimentally. He didn't pull hard enough to open it, though, knowing he should wait for everyone else, but looked at the food with a watering mouth. "It looks delicious," he said appreciatively.

"Thank you love," Grace replied. Everyone began plating their food when Eloise chimed in with an announcement that sounded as if it were life or death. "If we don't eat fast enough we'll miss the Christmas special.”

"The what?" Mycroft asked, confused. "What's special? I mean, isn't all of Christmas special?"

Eloise frowned, "I guess wizards don't have the Doctor"

"We call them healers, but I believe they do similar work," Mycroft said, concerned. "But what makes a doctor special? Do you not feel well?" he misunderstood completely.

"I feel fine," Eloise huffed. "Greggie explain please."

Greg was trying to hold in his laughter. "But Eloise its funny," he chuckled but saw the unamused look on his boyfriends face. "The Doctor is the main character in a show called Doctor Who. Its a programme love."

"Ah, you mean television," he realized. "You could have said so," he grumbled lightly, but he was hiding a smile. "How was I meant to know?" he defended himself. "So, what is this programme about?"

"I could have said so but I'd never meet an English person who didn't know about Doctor Who. It was rather amusing. Plus Eli's in love with the man so I was keen on making her flustered." Greg giggled.

"The show has been on since I was a boy, Mycroft," Jean added as Greg composed himself.

"Its about a man called the Doctor, and he travels through time and space saving the world...and looking good while doing it," Greg added.

Mycroft looks at him askance. "Gregory, most of the students at Hogwarts have probably not seen the show," he pointed out. "All the same, it sounds...amusing. It is a tradition, then, to watch it on Christmas?"

"I'd beg to differ. If there is at least one muggle in the household they know about it," Greg smirked. "And yes its holiday tradition to watch it. The BBC loves to sober the cheer."

"The Doctor gets a new companion in this one!" Eloise exclaimed and ran to the kitchen to dump her plate and then ran into the living room.

The family gathered around the television and Grace handed out the cocoa. The theme music came on and the adventure through space and time began. Mycroft found himself entranced by the programme, laughing along with them and picking up on it fairly quickly.

Once it was over Eloise was beside herself and began to express her glee to Mycroft while Greg got up to put the cups back in the kitchen when he heard a pecking at the window. Greg turned to look and saw an owl at the window. He opened the window, grabbed the letter and saw the owl take off. It was addressed to both boys from John.


	39. And A Happy New Year

Pocketing the letter, Greg headed back to the living room to find it to just be Eloise and Mycroft sitting and chatting. Seeing her brother walk into the room, Eloise wrapped up her conversation and wished both of the boys a good night with a kiss on the cheek.

Once alone, Greg sat beside Mycroft and pulled him alongside him and kissed his temple. “I got an owl from John, I hope nothing bad has happened,” he mumbled and pulled out the letter from his pocket and handed it over to Mycroft.

Equally curious, Mycroft examined the envelope before opening it. Deducing that the address on the outside was not written in a rush, he assured Greg that nothing was the matter and opened the letter for both of them to read. From the writing they could clearly see where Sherlock had tried to magically altered the text but was counteracted by John.

> _Dear Greg and Mycroft,_
> 
> _Happy Christmas! ~~Just from John.~~ We hope you both are having a good time at the Lestrade’s, I know I did when I visited once during the summer holiday._
> 
> _Sherlock is behaving ~~why would I not be behaving?!~~ for the most part and he even ate Christmas dinner with me tonight. Molly stayed here too and lucky for us that creep Jim she took to the ball did not. ~~He’s not into women anyways, must be a muggle hangup.~~ My mum sent us both knit hats in our house colours and Sherlock looks adorable wearing it. ~~I do not look adorable it is simply practical in this weather!~~_
> 
> _Anyways, I know you two aren't supposed to come back until after the new year ~~thank goodness~~ but we are both ~~just John~~ getting a little bit of cabin fever ~~it was just one cauldron that I burned through~~ and were wondering if you two wanted to come back and have a night out in Hogsmeade with us? Madam Rosmerta has some fireworks lined up and McGonagall has given permission to those of us with signed Hogsmeade passes permission to go. Let us ~~just John again~~ know if you want to come back early!_
> 
> _Also Greg, you mind watching the Doctor Who Christmas Special for me and letting me know how it goes? ~~John why must you insist on this trivial childish obsession?~~_
> 
> _I hope you both enjoyed your holiday and that meeting the future in laws went well Mycroft! ~~Oh my god you think they are getting married?! Mummy will be so disappointed - how am I ever to best Mycroft now? John are you certain you’re lineage is not unsavory in anyway?~~_
> 
> _Happy Christmas Again!_
> 
> _John and ~~Sherlock~~ Sherlock_

Looking up from the letter, and calming themselves down from giggling the two teens discussed it and thought it would be a nice change of pace to head back early and make use of Mycroft’s Head Boy room without Anthea there.

The next morning they talked it over with the Lestrades, and within two days Mycroft and Greg were on their way back to Hogwarts early to spend the new year with John and Sherlock, despite Sherlock’s protests.


	40. Epilogue

It was June and summer was in full swing. Most of the castle was empty with many of the students having left already for the summer but Greg Lestrade was passed out in the bed of the Head Boy after a night of celebration. The Head Boy himself was curled up on Greg’s chest equally dead to the world.

The room was suddenly filled with an annoying bell and Greg rolled over, muttering a spell and sent the clock flying into the wall out of frustration.

“Myc, we have to get up...graduation is in two hours,” he yawned, attempting to push the ginger off of him who was very insistent on not moving.

“Why did we stay up so late last night?” Mycroft whined from beneath the covers, ignoring Greg’s attempt to get out from under them.

“Because you insisted on fighting with Sherlock until 1am at Hog’s Head and then we came back here and we were still very keen on having some one on one time, so that is why we stayed up so late,” he grinned, bending back to stretch and wake himself up. Turning around, Greg looked at the bed and saw his boyfriend’s face poking out from the sheets surrounded by his gingery bedhead. “Come on, you get to dress up again for this occasion, you love getting all fancy, and I’m even getting into my dress robes for you,” he grinned, and bent down to place a kiss on Mycroft’s forehead.

“Fine I shall get up but please note that I loathe occasions like this since it is meant for spectacle and family, and I do not like spectacle and my family made it rather clear that they do not wish to be seen at this event in the guise of an impromptu trip to France,” he sighed, and rolled out of the bed and walked straight to the en suite to fix his hair.

“I know they won’t be there but I will and so will your brother and John. And yes, I know Sherlock is staying just to spite your parents but he does love you in his own weird way,” Greg laughed, and began to put on his dress robes.

Walking out of the bathroom in just trousers, Mycroft looked at Greg with raised brows. “The day my brother admits any feelings for me other than loathing openly, is the day that I go hunting for nargles with the Lovegood family,” he scoffed, and continued to get ready for that morning’s ceremony

***

“Mycroft Percival Holmes,” Headmistress McGonagall called and the Head Boy made his way to the platform as his achievements and awards were called out as he walked up the steps. Once he reached for his diploma he heard a rather boisterous set of cheers and whoops and looked up from the stage to see the Lestrade clan next to Greg cheering him on. The commotion caused Mycroft to pause on stage and after a few seconds of processing, gave a small wave and hurried off the stage to hide his blush.

Sitting at his seat he chanced a glance back to see if what he saw was real and sure enough there in the stands were Jean, Grace, and Eloise, beside Sherlock, John, and Greg.

When the ceremony ended and the reception was in full swing, Mycroft looked around the room for his small party but didn’t have to look for long before Eloise was wrapping around him in a hug.

“Congratulations Mycroft,” she yelled, and squeezed him once more good measure and let her parents give their praises as well.

“Yes congratulations Mycroft, we are so proud of you,” Grace chimed in and placed a kiss on his cheek. “We were delighted when the school sent us an invitation, and we haven’t been here and weren’t expecting to come here until Greggy’s graduation but now we get to see off both of our boys,” she beamed and pulled him in for a small hug.

“The school sent you an invitation?” Mycroft asked bewildered, and Jean explained that about a month ago the headmistress sent the family an invitation.

“Pity we don’t get to meet your parents though,” Jean shrugged, and went off with Grace to get some food.

Over to the side Sherlock stood stunned by the displays of affection and the way which his brother did not seem to mind one bit which prompted Greg to introduce Eloise to the brooding teenager. Seeing the challenge Eloise launched herself into a conversation with him and John and Greg could see her slowly winning him over.

With everyone occupied, Greg took the opportunity to wrap Mycroft into a hug. “I wanted you to have your family here - maybe not your parents, but the family that loves you without question. It was the headmistress’ idea but I was happy to bring them over. Mum and Da are gonna let me stay in London with you for most of the summer since I have an internship too so when I get on the train tonight I guess I’ll got with you to your place?” he asked hopefully.

“Our place you silly man,” he laughed, kissing him deeply.

***

As the evening came, Greg and Mycroft bid the Lestrades goodbye at the special portkey for muggle attendees and then Mycroft got ready to board the same boats that brought him to Hogwarts seven years ago.

“I’ll see you on the train love,” Greg whispered to him as he boarded.

Later that night when Mycroft stepped on the train he knew which compartment was theirs when he say the ceiling being enchanted with the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who was a part of this fic. Thanks to MH for the original RP and your consent to let me turn this into a fic. Thank you to each and every person who left comments, gave kudos, likes, reblogged, and asked me when I was updating. This was the first fanfic I ever wrote and though it took a long time to make I am thankful I took the plunge because it led me to write and create other pieces. If you have any lingering questions about the fic or this world I'd be happy to answer or do a one shot, but other than that this story is done and our boys got their happily ever after. 
> 
> Thank you all again and I'll see you in my next fic!


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